The Internet Is Mightier Than The Sword
by filmFreak1
Summary: Self insertion humorfic. The Charmed Ones are horrified to learn that stories about them, known as fanfics, have been published all over the Internet. They decide to summon a fanfic author, which causes further craziness. FINISHED!
1. Discovery of Slander

**Title:** The Internet Is Mightier Than The Sword

**Author: **filmFreak1

**Disclaimer: **I don't own 'em, I just play with 'em.

**Rated:** T (contains brief strong profanity and some suggestive sexual references)

**Summary:** Oneshot parody, late season 3. The Charmed Ones are horrified when they discover that various fictional stories about them, known as "fanfics", have been published all over the Internet. Features Cole, Darryl, and Leo.

**Feedback: **would be very highly appreciated. I don't mind criticism, but try to be constructive.

Prue opened the door, revealing Inspector Morris, who was wearing a tan overcoat and a look of irritation.

"Hey, Darryl, thanks for coming on such short notice."

"I came here as soon as I got your message. This had better be important; my people down at the station are getting really suspicious."

They walked into the dining room, where the others were sitting at the table. Phoebe sat at the head of the table with a laptop in front of her; Cole sat to her right, Leo sat to her left, and Piper sat next to Leo. All of them were shifting through and looking over the hundreds of printed sheets of paper that were scattered all over the table. They only looked up long enough to acknowledge Darryl with a nod. Prue took a seat next to Cole, and Darryl next to Prue.

"Um…okay, what exactly are we looking at here?" asked Darryl. Prue promptly handed him several pages. He skimmed through them.

"Alright, what is this, some kind of joke? Where did these come from?" he asked.

"They're called 'fanfics', and they came from the Internet," replied Phoebe, not looking up from her laptop. "Right there in plain sight where anybody can read them. I printed off as many of them as I could."

"I don't understand," said Darryl. "Who outside of us knows this much about the Charmed Ones?"

"Not that many that I know of, or so I thought," replied Prue, "and I don't know any who use the Internet that much. And it's not just the Charmed Ones, either; they seem to know a lot about Cole, Leo, and you."

"Me?!" replied Darryl. "I don't even have any powers; how would they know about me?!"

"They apparently don't know _that_ much about us," said Leo. "Most of these stories aren't true."

"Yes," said Piper, "but that doesn't change the fact that there are some things that they _do _know about us that they _shouldn't_ know; some of them are able to recall actual events down to the specific _details_, including the exact wording of the spells we used!"

"I've noticed one recurring pattern," said Cole. "Apparently whenever a story is going to have a relationship, romantic or otherwise, between two people, the story's summary denotes it by listing the names of the two, separated by a slash. For example, Cole/Phoebe, or Leo/Piper. There's also a lot of pairings here that, unless you people haven't been completely honest with me, didn't happen in real life, such as Leo/Prue, Dan/Phoebe, Darryl/Andy, etcetera." Darryl jerked his head up at this last mention.

"What was that, Cole?"

"Apparently, some of these…writers think that you and this deceased colleague of yours had a rather, uh, close relationship."

"What the—I don't—we never—"

"It's okay, Darryl, we know it's not true," said Piper, smiling. "Not that there's anything wrong with it, of course." This last phrase earned her a glare from the party whose sexual orientation was apparently a subject of speculation by the so-called fanfic writers.

"Don't worry, Darryl, you're not the only one," said Cole. "According to this one, Piper has been wondering why Leo has seem so distracted lately, and doesn't realize that it's because he wants me and therefore has been intently staring at my well-toned ass." Cole looked up at Leo and grinned. "Ah, that's so sweet, Leo." Piper glared at Cole; Leo simply rolled his eyes.

"Okay, guys, found another site. Here come some more fanfics." Phoebe walked into the next room and, a couple minutes later, returned with many more pages and dumped them on the table. "These are from the site Adult Fan Fiction."

"'Fiction' is right," said Darryl. Everybody immediately dove into the new pile and started looking over the new stories.

"Wow," said Phoebe. "Just reading this makes me feel a strong need for a very cold shower."

"Same here," said Prue. "I never thought it was _possible_ to be this explicit. What the hell does 'rimming' mean?"

"I didn't even know that it was possible to do that with one's tongue," Phoebe commented as she skimmed over the document currently in hand.

"Jesus, some of these stories are just plain depraved!" exclaimed Piper. "I mean, come on, Leo, I would never say things in the bedroom to you like 'Fuck me hard' or 'Eat my puss— '"

"PIPER!" interrupted Leo, Phoebe, and Prue simultaneously, stopping her from finishing the last word.

They continued reading for several more minutes before Piper finally spoke again.

"What is up with these people's way of depicting me? In almost all of the stories, I'm some obsessive-compulsive uptight prude. Just because I like to maintain a clean kitchen doesn't make me obsessive or compulsive! There is no obsessing going on, alright? I like maintaining order and balance, okay? No obsessing whatsoever!" She noticed the others were staring at ther. "What?"

"It's not like they're entirely nice to me either," said Prue. "They seem to think I'm some ice queen suffering from an extreme case of excessive vanity."

"Well, there was that thing with the seven sins," Piper remarked. Prue narrowed her eyes at her. Cole noticed Leo was turning very red at what he was reading, followed by him dropping the papers on the table. Cole picked them up and read them to see what Leo was so embarrassed about.

"Hey, I'd take Ice Queen any day over what their portrayal of me," said Phoebe. "According to them, I'm some super-horny slut who'll sleep with anybody."

"Including, apparently, her sisters," said Cole, who was still reading the fanfic that had turned Leo red.

"WHAT?!" resounded three female voices at once.

"Give me that!" Phoebe snatched the papers out of Cole's hand and began reading it. Prue and Piper stood up and crowded around her, reading over her shoulders.

Piper was now red in the face as well (unlike Leo, however, it was more out of anger than embarrassment) and was not able to get a complete sentence out, no matter how hard she tried.

"I am thoroughly—I can't believe—why those—" Finally, she ran into the bathroom. Sounds of retching followed.

The males at the table started discussing their portrayals.

"Most depictions of my character aren't that bad," said Darryl, "although a couple of the more ignorant writers' made me out to be very stereotypical, having me use words like 'honky' and the n-word."

"They love to show me as being completely dominated by my wife," said Leo.

"And you think that's worse than Phoebe's depiction?" asked Cole, who had no problem with the writers' depiction of him as being cool and suave.

"Hey, at least she usually gets to be the dominant partner!"

_He's got a point,_ thought Phoebe, _even if I do have sex with virtually everyone in those stories_. She looked at the others, considering. Darryl and Leo were handsome enough (she had even hit on Leo before he started dating Piper), but they were also married; if they hadn't been, though, she probably would have been willing to have sex with them. She even looked Prue over once or twice. _Nah. Probably not. Maybe if she was into that sort of thing. Hey, she does possess a fine ass, and a nice rack to go with it._ Phoebe suddenly realized what she was thinking and mentally slapped herself.

Piper came out of the bathroom, wiping her mouth with a towel.

"Leo, you need to go talk to the Elders and see if they know anything about this."

"I don't think that's necessary, Piper—"

"NOW!"

Leo obediently vanished in a swirl of bluish-white lights.

"I'd say the writers were right about him," Cole muttered.

Darryl left, saying that he would have somebody at the station check it out. Cole shimmered away, telling Phoebe that was going to see if anybody in the Underworld knew anything; this left the Charmed Ones alone.

"What do you think, Prue?" asked Piper. "You suppose these writers are demons?"

"No," replied Prue. "Not all of them, anyway. After all, some of these stories, while fictional, do portray us in a positive light."

"Yes, but what about the ones whose works are pure vile slander?"

"Only one way to find out," replied Phoebe. Her sisters looked at her. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a slip of paper. "I wrote a spell to summon one of the writers. Maybe they can tell us how they know about us and why they write such stories."

"That's actually not a bad idea," said Prue. "But which one will it summon?"

"You pick the one you want to summon and write their name down on a slip of paper, which you burn after saying the spell."

"Okay," said Piper. "That sounds good and great, but what exactly are we going to do once they are summoned?"

"We'll demand information out of them, perhaps torture them if necessary," said Prue.

"Torture?" asked a worried Phoebe. "Isn't that going a bit far? What if the writer turns out to be a mortal?"

"Then we'll heal them and erase their memory before sending them back," Prue replied. They agreed this was the best plan.

"Okay, but which one will we summon?" asked Piper.

Looking away from the table, Prue pointed her left index finger straight down at the scattered pile of papers, then moved the finger in random circles before finally bringing it down to the table. She picked up the paper that it had landed on.

"This one," Prue said in reply to Piper's question.

--

Several minutes later, they were up in the attic and had placed the crystals in a circle. They read off the spell together.

"Oh forces of magic, we implore you to help us a good bit; summon the one whose name we burn now, bring us this writer of pure shit." Prue and Piper looked at one another, then at Phoebe.

"Your wording really sucks, you know that?" said Prue.

Phoebe shrugged. "It was the best I could come up with in two minutes that rhymed."

"Let's just finish the spell, you two," said Piper. She took the slip with the writer's name on it and placed it over the candle flame, burning it.

A cloud of smoke appeared in the circle of crystals; it cleared quickly, revealing the writer who was trapped in the magical cage activated by the circle of crystals.

If he was a demon, he certainly did look like a typical one. He appeared to be in his early twenties, and had a thin beard on his face. He looked rather dorky, they thought, seeing as he was dressed in a button-up shirt, shorts, and tennis shoes; he also appeared to be about forty pounds overweight. In one hand, he held a half-eaten Butterfinger; in the other, a 20 oz. bottle of Coca-Cola.

He tried to step out of the circle, but received a rude surprise when he was shocked by the cage, causing him to drop the bottle. Panic developed in his eyes, and he looked over at his captors. A strange look of recognition crept onto his face.

Prue was the first to speak. "Alright, filmFreak1, start talking."

--

_Author's Note: This fic was partially inspired by similar one that I read that took place in the Firefly universe. I decided to apply the same premise here._

_I know some of you may have been disgusted by Phoebe's brief thoughts about Prue, but remember: this fic is a _parody

_This is actually my first attempt at a fic with an overall humorous tone…hope you enjoyed it._

_Make sure to leave feedback! I hope you liked this; if not, I certainly welcome criticism, but try to be constructive. Thanks again!_


	2. Enter the Writer

"Huh? Am I dreaming?" asked the writer known as filmFreak1. He picked the Coke bottle off the ground, being careful to squat so as to not touch the edges of the cage. He took a swig and let out a short belch. When he was finished, he tossed the bottle and candy bar wrapper on the ground.

"No, you're certainly not dreaming, Mister Mean Ol' Writer," replied Phoebe, smirking.

"We want to ask you some questions," said Prue.

"Yeah?" replied the writer. "Well, make it quick, will ya, Shannen? I was in the middle of watching Desperate Housewives."

"What did you just call me?" replied Prue in very cold fashion.

"Desperate what?" Piper cocked her head, puzzled. The writer looked at Prue, as if he had just realized something, then they heard him counting numbers…perhaps he was calculating something in his head?

"Right," they heard him say to himself. "That show didn't go on the air until 2004."

"Wait a minute," said Piper, "you mean to tell us you're from the _future_?"

"Eh, well…sorta. Any chance you could let me out of this cage?"

"Not until you answer some questions," replied Piper.

"Screw you, Holly—I mean, Piper! Let me out of this goddamn cage and _then_ I'll answer your questions!"

"Okay, that's it," said Prue. "We're torturing him."

"Wait," said Phoebe. "I've got a better idea." She quickly ran downstairs. When she returned, she was carrying a plate full of chocolate-chip cookies. "I just baked these a short while ago. They're nice and fresh."

"Ooh! Gimme! Gimme!" said the writer, holding out his hands in expectation.

"First you answer our questions, or else I'll do this to all of the cookies." Phoebe picked up a cookie and crushed it in her hand, then threw the remains on the floor. The writer shrieked and jumped forward to try to stop her, but was shocked by the cage; he howled in pain.

"PHOEBE! THE FLOOR!" screamed Piper, who promptly scooped up the crumbs and tossed them in the trash.

"Okay, okay," the writer whimpered after a moment. "I'll answer your questions."

Prue asked the first question. "First off, who are the fanfic writers and how do they know so much about us?"

The writer stumbled over the question. "Uh, well…it's kinda hard to explain. Basically, it all comes down to this: I'm from an alternate universe where your lives are fictional, or so we thought, and are depicted in a TV show." The Charmed Ones didn't say anything for a minute.

"Okay…so what's the punchline?" asked Phoebe.

"Uh, well…there isn't one," replied the ever-increasingly nervous writer.

"Wait," said Prue. "You called me and Piper Shannen and Holly. On this TV show of yours, are those the names of the actresses who play us?"

The writer nodded. "Yeah, and the one who plays Phoebe is named Alyssa."

"Alright," said Piper. "Assuming that you're telling the truth, are the stories that the fanfic writers create true within the TV show itself?"

"No, no, the fanfic writers are just simply fans who like writing their own stories about the show and its characters. Hence why it's called _fan_ fiction. Couldja remove this cage now? My feet are killing me." The sisters looked at each other and nodded. Waving her hand, Prue used her power to throw one of the crystals to the side; the cage disappeared immediately. The writer snatched the plate of cookies from Phoebe and sat down on the couch.

"Ah, that's much better," said the writer.

"You better not get any crumbs on that couch, Mister, or I'll vanquish your ass!" said Piper.

"Now for our next question," said Phoebe. "If the writers are fans of us, then why do they like writing this disgusting slander about us?"

"What kind of slander?" asked the writer through a mouthful of cookie.

"Well, for example, here's a story that you wrote," Phoebe took out the piece of paper that Prue's finger had landed on and started looking over it. Her eyes grew wide in surprise.

"Wait a minute! This is the conversation we just had at the dining table!" exclaimed Phoebe. The other two gathered around her and looked over the first few paragraphs of the fanfic. A look of horror developed on the writer's face as the Charmed Ones turned their glares toward him. He gulped.

"So YOU'RE the reason I was having those naughty thoughts about Pr—!" She stopped as she realized what she was saying. The other two looked at her questioningly. The writer paused in mid-chew, the expression on his face reflecting the fear of his mortality.

"—eston," finished Phoebe. "Preston. A boy I know in my psychology class. That's right. His name is Preston." Phoebe quickly crammed the paper containing the fanfic into her pocket, not wanting the others to read it. The writer sighed in relief, thankful that Phoebe hadn't said the name she had originally intended to say; he was more afraid of Prue than of her sisters. He started chewing his cookie again.

"Man, if I'd known this was going to happen in real life," the writer muttered to himself, "I would have written the second chapter a little differently."

"Wait, what was that?" asked Phoebe.

The look of horror appeared on the writer's face again; had he just said that aloud?

"Did you just say 'second chapter'?" asked Prue, her eyes growing colder by the second.

"What happens in this second chapter? Tell us or I'll chunk that plate of cookies in the trash!" said Piper.

The writer looked down at the plate, then back up at the Charmed Ones, and winced. "We're kinda acting it out as we speak."

Piper threw her hands up in the air. "Well, that's just real damn great! All these magical powers, and we're being controlled by this fatass loser!"

_You know, Piper's actually rather cute when she's angry…I wonder what angry sex with her would be like?_ Phoebe realized she was having the naughty thoughts again, and flashed a dirty look at the writer.

"Look, I'm sorry," said the writer. "Sure, I wrote this story, but I didn't think it would actually happen…I'll fix it, I promise! Just send me back to my time and place!"

"What are we going to do?" asked Phoebe. "We've got to do something about all these fanfic writers, or else they're going to inadvertently expose us to society!"

"Yeah, and I don't think society's going to treat us too well, either, especially since they just put that moron Bush in the White House!" yelled Prue. Her sisters gave her puzzled looks.

"Since when do you care about politics, Prue?" asked Phoebe.

"Since…never, actually. Wait a minute!" she turned toward the writer. "You just used me to express your political views, didn't you?" The writer's face now contained a look of pure terror; he knew exactly what was coming to him, especially since he had written it himself.

"Well, er, uh," he stammered. "What I, uh, mean is—"

"Well, allow me to express THIS!" Prue waved her hand. The plate of cookies flew through the air, and the writer squealed at the top of his lungs like a little girl as both he and the couch flew across the room and crashed out through the attic window.

--

_Author's Note: Well, you demanded a second chapter, and I gave it to you! Think I should continue?_

_My apologies to any red-state folks I may have offended; just remember that I poke a lot more fun at myself than at your type._

_Make sure to leave plenty of feedback!_


	3. Beyond the Update

Shortly after the writer and the couch went out the window, the Charmed Ones heard a crash, followed by the sound of a car alarm going off.

"MY COUCH!" shrieked Phoebe.

"MY CAR!" shrieked Prue.

"MY FLOOR!" shrieked Piper, who started immediately picking the scattered pieces of the remaining cookies.

"My…back…" The weak voice of the writer drifted in from outside.

"Jesus, Prue, was that really necessary?" asked Phoebe, angrily.

"No kidding!" said an equally angry Piper. "Look what you did to the floor!"

"Okay, I overreacted a little; I didn't mean to hit him with that much magic! I'm sorry!"

"Let's just go down and see if we can help him," sighed Phoebe.

When they walked outside, they found the writer splayed out all over the hood and windshield of Prue's car. He was surrounded by broken glass, both from the car's windshield and the attic window.

Piper was about to call for Leo, but the writer held out his hand. "Wait…I'm alright." He got off the car, causing pieces of glass to tinkle as they hit the pavement. The Charmed Ones were shocked to see that he wasn't injured at all; his shirt had not even been torn by the glass!

Phoebe looked around. "Did you happen to see where the couch went?" The writer shook his head.

"Weren't you just moaning about your back?" asked Prue, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes. She was still suspicious that the writer was a demon.

"Yeah, but I feel much better now. I'm not sure how," replied the writer.

"You wrote it into your fanfic?" asked Piper, raising an eyebrow.

"Uh...actually, no. The second chapter ended with Prue throwing me out the window, and I have not actually updated the story since then. I guess I just got lucky." The sisters stared at him, puzzled.

"Wait…so does this mean we're running on our own free will now?" asked a hopeful Phoebe.

The writer shrugged. "Dunno. I guess."

The conversation was abruptly ended when Piper yelled "LOOK OUT!" and jumped out of the way as a fireball blazed its way through the space where she had just been standing. Looking in the direction from where the fireball had come, her sisters and the writer saw a man dressed in black already forming another fireball in his hand—a demon! The writer let out a rather girly shriek and dove for cover behind some bushes.

The demon threw the fireball directly at Prue, who used her power to avert it, then took cover behind a tree. Unfortunately for the writer, she averted it directly into the bushes behind which he was hiding. It exploded, blowing the writer back against the wall of the house and setting the bushes on fire. The demon started to form a third fireball.

"No! Stop!" cried the writer, thinking that the new fireball was meant for him.

To everyone's amazement, the fireball dissipated in the demon's hand. The demon looked at the writer, and then shimmered away.

"What the…" Piper got up and looked around, but the demon was nowhere to be found.

"I don't understand." Phoebe was completely baffled; why had the demon just left like that?

"Isn't it obvious?" Prue came out from behind the tree and pointed at the writer. "They were working together."

"What?!" The writer looked up incredulously at Prue. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"It makes sense," said Piper, who had crossed her arms and was now standing next to Prue. "Why else would the demon follow his command?"

"Look, I wasn't working with him! I don't have a clue why he left like that; I'm just glad he didn't turn me into Barbecue a la filmFreak! Besides, at what point since you summoned me would I have even had the opportunity to contact him, huh?"

"You could be telepathic." Prue stepped closer, her eyes betraying murderous intentions.

The writer shook his head, frustrated. "You know what, Prue? Go to hell."

He immediately regretted saying this when Prue spontaneously combusted. After a few seconds of burning and screaming, she exploded into dust. A look of great surprise found its way onto the writer's face as he stared at the resulting pile of ashes.

"Oh, shit."

--

_A/N: Not a great chapter I know, but that's mainly because it's a transitional one. I figured it was best to end here for now so as to leave you on a tiny bit of a cliffhanger. Oh, and just in case that cliffhanger is making you consider dropping this fic: Don't worry; Prue's not permanently out of the story.  
_

_I think I may have finally found a bit of a direction for the story; try to stay with me as long as you can._

_Thanks to each and every one of you for the wonderful feedback; make sure to leave more!_


	4. A Fanfic Reader's Worst Nightmare

"Oh my god, he killed Prue!" shouted Phoebe.

"You bastard!" Piper raised her hands with the palms outward, a gesture that the writer knew meant only one thing.

"No, Piper, don't!" he yelled.

To both his and Phoebe's surprise, Piper put her hands down.

"What are you doing, Piper? Blow him up! It's not like he's a small target, you know!" Phoebe gestured wildly. "Why are you just standing there?!"

"Actually, I'm not sure," replied Piper.

The writer was completely baffled. What was going on? Then something occurred to him, causing him to turn back to the large pile of what had previously been Prue.

"Uh…resurrect?" the writer said, gesturing toward the ashes.

Immediately, a harsh wind blew, and the ashes flew off the ground in a spiral pattern. In a few seconds, it had started to form a humanoid shape. In about twenty more seconds, Prue was standing where the ashes had been before. She was still screaming and, for some reason, she was naked, but otherwise she was fine. She stopped screaming two seconds later when she realized she was no longer in hell.

"What the…what happened?" Prue looked around. She noticed her sisters standing there, mouths and eyes wide open.

"Yeah, I kinda sent you to hell by accident," the writer grimaced. "Sorry about that."

"Well, that would explain all the country music I kept hearing."

"Prue! You're alright!" Phoebe and Piper ran up to their sister, tears running down their faces. They stopped short before hugging her, however, and averted their eyes, snickering.

"What?" asked Prue. "Do I have horns or something?" She looked out at the street, and noticed that traffic had slowed down. Other drivers were staring wide-eyed at her; one smashed his SUV into a parked truck.

"Uh, Prue?" Phoebe gestured at Prue's body, taking extra care to avert her eyes; she was trying to avoid the bad thoughts (although they seemed to have vanished for now, probably due to being beyond the writer's last point of update). "You're, uh…um…"

It was only then that Prue looked down at herself and realized she wasn't wearing a stitch. "Oh, Jesus!" She immediately doubled over, trying to use one hand to cover her breasts and the other to cover her crotch.

"Couldn't you have at least given her some clothes?!" Piper demanded of the writer as she stood in front of her older sister, trying to help cover her shame.

The writer was not listening, as he was staring at Prue, drool starting to come out of his mouth.

"HEY, FILMFREAK! SHE'S TALKING TO YOU!" Phoebe shouted at the writer, shaking him back into reality.

"What? Did you say something?" He looked up at Piper.

"Clothes, lardass! I was asking why you couldn't give her any clothes!"

"What? Oh…yeah, that was kinda unintentional. Um…form clothes!" The writer aimed his hands at Prue. Immediately a black leather bikini and black leather skirt formed on Prue's body. She looked down at herself, then at the writer.

"Uh…thanks?" She said, raising an eyebrow; she was obviously not entirely appreciative. The skirt hugged her hips and ass tightly, and was incredibly short; if she had sat down it would have been Happy Valentine's Day for everybody (or at least the writer).

The writer shrugged apologetically. "It was the first outfit I could think of."

Phoebe faced the writer in an angry stance, her hands on her hips. "You're a real perv, you know that?"

The writer wanted to argue with her, but he was afraid that he would get angry and accidentally say something stupid that she would follow as a command such as telling her to go to hell as he had just done with Prue, or perhaps telling her, in harsher words, to go do an impossible sexual act to herself. So instead he kept silent.

He contemplated what had just happened. Somehow, he had gained the power to do…anything. At least by verbal command, anyways. He wondered if that had to do with why he had recovered from slamming into Prue's car. He smiled, secretly thrilled at his new power over the universe. Then his smile dropped as he realized that he had become a fanfic reader's worst nightmare.

_Wonderful,_ he thought sarcastically to himself. _Just wonderful. I've become a goddamn Mary Sue._

--

_A/N: Okay, yet another short chapter…don't worry; I plan to have the story pick up soon! Hope you liked this chapter anyways, though._

_I'm finding that when one writes a story like this, one has to show great restraint in order to keep it to keep it to a T rating. I've considered bumping it up to an M rating, but I'm not sure I wouldn't lose a good portion of my audience._

_Anyways, thanks again for the feedback, and make sure to leave more!_


	5. A New Name, Followed by a Slap

Five minutes later, the Charmed Ones and the writer were sitting around the coffee table, discussing the events that had just occurred outside. Prue had crossed her legs and was now holding a couch cushion over her lap. She had done this when she noticed the writer was sneaking a few peeks up the skirt he had formed on her; apparently he had forgotten (or so he claimed; she certainly had her doubts) to give her underwear. She very much wanted to slap the pervert's teeth down his throat, but decided that, given his newfound abilities and the fact that she had recently and accidentally been an extreme victim of those abilities, it would be best if she held her temper in check for now.

"Wait," said Prue. "So you can cause anything to happen just simply by commanding it?!"

"Apparently so," said the writer.

"That would explain why the demon stopped after you told him to," added Phoebe.

"It would also explain why you were able to send me to hell," said Prue, narrowing her eyes at the writer.

The writer shrugged. "Hey, you threw me out the window, I sent you to hell…what d'ya say we call it even?"

"Gee, think I might be getting the short end of that deal?"

"That's enough, you two!" said Piper roughly. "We need to focus more on the question at hand…why is FilmFreak here—"

"You know what, Piper?" The writer interrupted. "FilmFreak works great as an internet pseudonym, but after a short while it gets a little aggravating hearing it repeatedly spoken out loud. Tell you what…" The writer paused for a moment; he didn't want to give them his real name for fear that that others (namely fanfic readers) might find it out as well. He decided to go with the first name of John Travolta's character in the film _Pulp Fiction_. "…call me Vincent."

"Okay, then," replied an irritated Piper. "Now, if you'll be nice enough to let me finish my question, why is _Vincent_ here able to do….well, everything? The Source himself couldn't _dream_ of that kind of power!"

The man who now referred to himself as Vincent thought for a moment before replying. "The only reason I can come up is that it has something to do with the fact that I haven't updated the fanfic since the second chapter."

"Okay, and how exactly does that give you God status right now?" asked Phoebe.

"Well, think about it: As of right now, I haven't written beyond that point, and yet the story is still being continued; just the fact that I'm still in your world proves that. And since it's my story, I still have ultimate control over where it goes. Before the second chapter ended, this control was implemented directly through what I wrote; however, though, I am now past the point of my last update, so the only way I can directly control the story now is through verbal commands."

"So does this mean we have free will or not?"

"I think you do to a certain extent…basically, I think you have free will as long as it doesn't contradict _my_ will."

"This is starting to sound like some Charlie Kaufman thing," remarked Prue.

Vincent grinned. "A woman who knows her movie culture…I'm impressed."

It was right then that they heard a car pull up in the driveway. Looking outside, they saw that it was a police car. The passenger side door opened, and Darryl Morris stepped out. He said something to the driver, and then walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell as the police car drove off. The Charmed Ones noticed that he was now wearing a large band-aid on one side of his forehead.

"Darryl! What happened to you? Where's your car?" asked Phoebe as she opened the door.

"I got into a bit of a wreck when I was on my way to the police station. It's nothing to worry about, just a small cut."

"Did you find out anything about the fanfic writers?" asked Piper.

"No, that's not why I'm here, actually. I'm here because I'd like to know why the hell the station's getting a bunch of calls from this neighborhood!" Darryl sounded more irritated than usual.

"What kind of calls?" asked Piper.

"Let's see…just about all of them reported slow traffic on the street, there were several that reported a couple of car accidents, and just a few minutes ago, we got some calls reporting a woman who's standing around naked in her front yard!"

"Umm…don't you usually work homicides?" asked Phoebe.

"Yeah, but since it was in this neighborhood, I figured it had to be related to you somehow; oh, and let me just say that my being out here does nothing to throw off the suspicions of my guys over at the station. The last thing I need right now is to have associates of mine start running around in the buff, causing people to rubberneck and have car accidents!" Everybody looked up and stared at the band-aid on his forehead.

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Darryl sighed in frustration. "That isn't how _my_ accident happened!"

"So what happened then?" asked Prue, crossing her arms.

"I'm still not entirely sure, actually. All I know is, I was on my way to the station, and something hit my car from above; it caused me to steer right onto the sidewalk and into a tree."

"Did you happen to see what hit you?"

"I caught only a glimpse. I know it sounds crazy…but I thought it looked like a flying couch. I couldn't find it afterward."

Prue and Phoebe exchanged looks. _So _that's_ where it went, _thought Phoebe.

"But that's beside the point!" continued Darryl. "The most bothersome call I received was from your neighbors across the street who reported that they saw a fat man fall out of your attic window! Would anyone care to explain the correlation between that call and the big-ass dent and broken windshield that I noticed on Prue's car?!"

"The big ass you speak of belongs to me, Inspector Morris." Vincent raised his hand. "All 230 pounds of it."

Darryl looked at the newcomer. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"I'm the fanfic writer that they summoned. Call me Vincent."

Darryl stared at him, perplexed.

"We'll explain everything when Leo and Cole get back, we promise, Darryl," said Phoebe.

"Well, it better be a damn good explanation; I've got enough troubles going on without you people causing neighborhood troubles and oh my God, Prue, what the _hell_ is that thing you're wearing? Are you going to a rave or something?!"

Prue was not given a chance to answer before Cole and Leo simulataneously shimmered and orbed, respectively, into the room.

"Hey, you two, did you find anything?" asked Phoebe, looking affectionately at Cole.

"I searched around, but I couldn't find any information about the fanfic writers," said Cole, smiling back at Phoebe. "I did, however, run into one demon who said that he tried to attack the Charmed Ones, but was somehow stopped by a fourth party. I vanquished him and came here as soon as possible. Are you guys alright?"

"We're fine, Cole, thanks," replied Prue. She gestured toward Vincent. "This is the fourth party."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. McMahon—I mean, Dr. Troy—I mean, Cole." The nervous writer grinned and waved at Cole. He mentally chastised himself for failing to remember that he was speaking to neither an actor nor a _Nip/Tuck_ character; he was nervous partly because he was a big fan of Julian McMahon.

"Phoebe, who's this?" asked Cole, giving the writer a strange look. "And why is Prue dressed like she's going to a rave?" Prue rolled her eyes in response.

"In a moment, Cole. Leo, did you find out anything?" asked Piper.

"I went to the Elders, who at first said they knew nothing," began Leo. "So I decided to pay a visit to some of my more magically-inclined charges, and they seemed to know nothing, either. But then I was called _back _to the Elders, who told me that they had just detected a powerful presence in this house. That was when I orbed here. So who's the new guy?"

"It's crowded in here. Let's move this conversation to the table; then we can give you the whole picture," said Prue, nodding. As the others started getting up and walking into the dining room, Prue removed the cushion from her lap and uncrossed her legs, unintentionally exposing herself.

"Whoa, speaking of the 'whole picture'...," Vincent mumbled to himself. Prue let out a loud, high-pitched squeak when she realized her folly, and immediately jumped to her feet and tugged the leather skirt down. Vincent realized that he had once again accidentally spoken a private thought out loud, and his eyes widened in horror.

By this time, the other five people had sat down at the table in the dining room. From the room where they had just been, they could hear a _very_ loud smacking sound, followed by Vincent screaming "OW!! FUCK!!!" before walking into the dining room, whimpering and rubbing the red handprint that now decorated the left side of his face.

--

_A/N: I decided to give myself a name in the fanfic because I was tired of referring to myself as "the writer", and "filmFreak1" doesn't exactly just roll off the tongue.  
_

_Just for a bit of trivia, the Charlie Kaufman bit said by Prue is mainly a reference to the film _Adaptation_, which was written by Kaufman and basically tells the (partly fictionalized) story of Kaufman (played in the film by Nicolas Cage) trying to write the script for the film we are watching. Check it out sometime if you haven't seen it._

_Thanks again for your wonderful feedback, and I will always appreciate more._


	6. The Second Day

Cole, Darryl, and Leo were all incredulous when the others filled in the details. Vincent even had to demonstrate his powers a few times to get them to believe it; conjuring and then vanquishing a squirrel, shattering a glass and then reassembling it, teleporting Darryl right into the middle of a session of Japanese parliament (much to the great surprise of the Japanese politicians; Vincent made sure to give a verbal command for them to forget what they had just seen), etc. When they were still doubtful, Vincent finally gave them direct verbal commands which they found, to their chagrin, they were unable to disobey. It did not fly too well with Cole and Leo when Vincent told them (much to the sisters' delight, actually) to kiss each other on the lips, but it finally got them to understand the situation.

Eventually, it was agreed that the Charmed Ones should try to send Vincent back to his own universe, but it was going to be difficult. It was not even certain that it was possible (Vincent had even tried sending himself back by command, but found that he couldn't), and it would take at least a few days to come up with a potion that might be able to do the trick.

The meeting ended. Darryl left, Leo got called by one of his charges, and Cole shimmered out, since he was still being pursued by demon bounty hunters working for the Source. For sleeping arrangements, Vincent was given blankets, a pillow, and the downstairs couch.

--

The next morning, Vincent awoke to find the sisters seated at the dining room table, eating a delicious breakfast. He gladly obliged when they offered him some; he had not eaten ever since eating the cookies Phoebe had offered him in the attic. Phoebe and Piper were already finishing, so they stood up and took their dishes to the kitchen, leaving Prue (who was wearing a white tanktop and a loose pair of pajama pants) and Vincent alone at the table.

"Anyone ever tell you that you snore?" asked Prue as the writer sat down.

"Other than my friends, my parents, and all four roommates that I've had at college?" he replied uneasily; just being around Prue put him on edge. "Nope."

"I could hear it all the way upstairs," she said. "At first I thought a pig with nasal congestion had wondered its way into the house." This pushed Vincent over the edge, causing him to lose his temper.

"Get fucked, Prue! On second thought, don't; I wouldn't want you to have the pleasure!"

"You'd better undo that command, Vincent! I will kill you if I have to go the rest of my life without sex!"

"Oh, if you're nice to me, I might undo it before I go back to my world," replied the writer, flashing her an evil grin.

"You two really have some issues to work out, you know that?" remarked Piper from the kitchen. Both Vincent and Prue sighed in response.

Vincent decided to change the subject. "Hey, Piper, is P3 open tonight?"

"Definitely, we're having the Deadites play tonight."

"Alright, then, would you mind if I went?"

"No, that's fine, just make sure to not give any kind of command; in fact, it'd probably be best if you didn't talk at all."

Vincent turned to Prue. "Do you or your sisters need me around here for anything? I was thinking I'd go downtown today."

"Well, other than lifting the no-sex-for-me ban, no. I think we could stand to not be around each other for a while." She stood and bent over to gather up stuff from the table, allowing Vincent to notice something. He decided to be just a tad crueler.

"That's a nice leopard-skin thong you're wearing, Prue."

Prue squeaked and pulled up her pajama pants. Her face grew red, especially when she heard her sisters in the kitchen snicker at Vincent's comment. She raised her hand, prepared to deal another blow to his face.

"So, Prue, how's a life of celibacy sounding?" Vincent smirked. Prue put her hand down and stomped out of the room.

--

Vincent found that shopping was actually quite fun when one could just simply command that money be formed out of nowhere. He went from store to store buying new clothes (he had brought only the clothes on his back when the Charmed Ones summoned him). He could have simply formed new clothes on his body if he wanted, but he was actually having fun just browsing through the stores, plus he needed an excuse to get out of the house for a while. He even stopped by the movie theater and watched _Kill It Before It Dies_; he knew from having watched the Charmed Ones on television that it was Phoebe's favorite movie. A little overrated, he thought, but entertaining.

Eventually, he noticed that it was getting on towards evening, and he decided that he needed to get back to the house. He teleported himself by command (taking great care that nobody would notice), then went inside, showered, and changed clothes.

Finally, he arrived at P3, where a bouncer was checking people at the door. Commanding that a ticket be created, he made it through the door.

Unfortunately, it would definitely not be a night without its troubles.

--

_A/N: The main purpose of this chapter was basically to cover the time gap between the last chapter and the next one, so forgive me if you didn't find it that good. I plan to make the next one a lot more fun. I know I've been especially cruel to Prue in my fic so far, but fear not; I will probably start being cruel to the others as well in the next chapter.  
_

_The band (the Deadites) that I mentioned in this chapter is a fictional band; I intended their name to be a tribute to the Evil Dead trilogy._

_ As usual, feedback is highly appreciated.  
_


	7. The Morning After

Vincent was woken up by the bedside phone. Thanks to his massive headache, he was barely able to decipher that the alarm clock next to it read 7:00 am.

"Man, what kind of jackass calls this early?" he grumbled to himself. He reached over and picked up the receiver.

"Hello?" he mumbled, his eyes still closed.

"Vincent, get your ass down here right now, you sick son of a bitch!" His eyes shot open.

"Leo? What's going on? Get my ass down where?"

"P3, and you should know damn well what's going on; you're the cause of it!" Leo was furious.

_Oh, yeah, _the writer remembered. _I was at P3 last night, wasn't I?_ At the moment, he couldn't remember much beyond entering the club; hopefully his memory would come back once he was more awake and his headache had cleared up.

"Look, I don't remember much right now, so could you give me the short version?"

"Okay, let me start at the part where you came into the club and started getting drunk—" Leo was interrupted by a crashing sound in the background, followed by what sounded like Piper yelling something. Vincent could also now clearly hear rock music blasting in the background.

"Keep her restrained, will you?" he heard Leo shout to somebody.

Leo returned to the phone. "Just get down here!" He hung up.

Vincent tried saying a command for his memory to return, but it didn't work. _Hmm, I guess I'm not allowed to make commands that involve actual changes to my body_ _and mind_, he thought. Sighing, he sat up in bed and looked around the room. Apparently he was in one of the Halliwell sisters' bedrooms; he could tell because pictures of their family lined the walls. He wondered why he was here instead of on the downstairs couch.

He froze when he felt something move next to him.

Turning slowly, he saw the back of a woman's head, with dark hair that came down to about the bottom of her lovely neck. She was laying on her stomach with her head turned away from him. The bedsheets came up to the middle of her back, which was bare above that point.

Vincent looked under the covers at himself; he was wearing only a pair of boxers. What exactly had he and this attractive stranger been up to? Damn, if only he could remember!

He decided that it would be best if he did not leave the woman alone in the house, so he gently shook her awake with the intention of politely telling her that she had to leave.

The woman grunted as she woke up and turned to see who had woken her. Vincent's jaw dropped when he saw who it was.

"Oh, my god! Prue?!"

When Prue recognized the voice, her eyes shot wide open and she immediately sat up, pulling the sheet up to her shoulders.

"Oh, my god, Vincent! Did we actually do it?!"

"You tell me; I don't remember a thing."

Prue's face paled and she started to look sick. Jumping out of bed (as it turned out, she was wearing a red pair of panties) and covering her breasts with one arm, she ran into the bathroom; Vincent could hear her vomiting.

Vincent slowly got out of bed and got dressed. He turned toward the bathroom door.

"Hey, Prue, are you done talking into the Irish telephone yet? Leo told me I needed to get down to P3 right now, and I need a ride. It sounded pretty urgent." No response for a moment.

"Can't you teleport yourself there?" she finally replied.

"Yeah, but given how super pissed he sounded, it's probably best if I don't give too many commands for a while." Another moment of silence.

"Okay, I'll take you, but I need to get dressed first. Turn around." He did, and she came out of the bathroom.

"Alright, let's go," she said two minutes later. Vincent turned around and saw that she still looked a little green in the face; he did not entirely blame her.

But as they were leaving the room, they heard a rather peaceful moan come from nearby. They both froze.

"Prue, I really hope that was you," said Vincent quietly. They both turned and looked at the bed.

"You don't suppose…" said Prue.

"You want to look or should I?"

"You do it."

Vincent slowly nodded. "Okay." He crept toward the bed. Approaching the side, he grasped the covers and yanked them off.

This, in turn, revealed a stark naked Phoebe who was now curling up into the fetal position to compensate for the sudden loss of warmth. She was on the side of the bed opposite from Vincent (with Prue being in the middle); she did not wake up.

"Oh, this is not of the good," said Vincent.

And suddenly, Prue had to vomit again.

--

_A/N: I know you may be a little disappointed, gang, but trust me, you WILL get a chapter devoted to describing everything that happened at P3 the night before. I just figured it might be better if I added an element of mystery to it where I show the effects and then the cause._

_What exacly happened at P3? _Did _Prue and I and Phoebe (or combination thereof) actually "do the deed"? These questions will be answered in the next couple of chapters!_

_As usual, I love the feedback!_


	8. Morning Chaos at P3

Fifteen minutes, Vincent and Prue were arriving at the club. They had decided to let Phoebe continue to sleep, but they made sure to move her to her own bed in the hope that she wouldn't be able to remember anything, either.

"We do not, under any circumstances, tell _anyone_ about this," said Prue.

"Yeah, especially Cole; I'd rather not risk him finding out what we did—excuse me, what we _may_ have done with his girl and then going all Belthazor on our asses."

"Right," said Prue. "If anybody asks, we simply came home late and went straight to bed. God, I just hope that at the very least Phoebe and I didn't do it with each other." Vincent nodded at this. Prue parked the car, and they both stepped out and went into the club.

To their great surprise, the Deadites were still playing and a huge crowd was still dancing on the floor; just about all of them had circles under their eyes. The Deadites were so tired that they were sounding awful; half of them were playing in three-four time and the other half in four-four time. Vincent wondered if they were even playing the same song.

"What's going on here?!" asked Prue. "They should have all left a long time ago! I hope the band isn't expecting extra money for this."

"Hey, Halliwell!" a man shouted to Prue while dancing in the crowd. "Tell your sister I'm suing her for this!" He pointed at his face, which bore a recently formed black eye. Vincent noticed that there were several other people in the crowd who had similar injuries.

_Geez, was there a brawl or something?_ He wondered.

They scanned the crowd for familiar faces. Prue found one first.

"Darryl?!"

"Hey, you two!" he shouted while gyrating on the dance floor. He had a half-crazed grin on his face.

"Uh…hi, Darryl, aren't you supposed to be at the station right now?" asked Prue.

"Yeah, I am, but I'm having such a good time! I just can't seem to get away!"

"Oh, well, that's…nice. Have you seen Leo around by any chance?"

"No, sorry."

"That's okay. Just…keep doing whatever it is you're doing," said Prue. She and Vincent left Darryl as he started break dancing.

Next, Prue spotted a bearded man who she recognized as being a regular at the club.

"Hey, have you seen Piper Halliwell around?"

The bearded man chuckled. "Oh, yeah, you better believe I've seen her around."

Prue and Vincent gave him blank stares.

"I saw her and a couple of other people go into her office," he finally said.

They thanked him and worked their way through the crowd until they reached the office in the back, where they found Leo, a man, and a woman restraining Piper, who was giggling like crazy and flirting with all three of them and, at the same time, trying to go back out onto the dance floor. Leo saw Vincent and motioned him over.

"Uh, hi, Leo, wasn't the party supposed to have ended like, oh, I don't know, _seven or eight hours ago_? And who are these people?" asked Prue, gesturing toward the man and woman.

"These are two of my charges; they're both witches. I had to get them to assist me with Piper. On another subject: what the _hell_ did you do to my wife, Vincent?! She's been acting like this all night, and I have a strong feeling it has to do with _you_! We've been trying to get her to talk, but she keeps just giggling, among other things. And I'd also be willing to bet that you're the reason the concert's lasted for over ten hours so far!"

"Look, Leo, I don't remember much of what happened last night yet, so—"

"Well, at least fix it!"

Vincent sighed. "Okay. I'll try."

He raised his hands. "Undo any ongoing commands that I gave last night."

The change was slow at first, but within a couple of minutes, the crowd noise had died down and Piper had started to calm down. Leo walked out of the office and looked around the dance floor.

"It worked! They're finally going home!" they heard him shout.

_Which of course means that all the blame for last night is on me,_ Vincent thought glumly.

"Oh, shit!" Vincent recognized Darryl's voice. "I'm late for work!"

The Deadites' manager, completely worn out after the super long concert, approached Leo.

"Dude, that was like, totally the best party ever! I don't think the band has ever had such a great audience before. Tell your wife that the Deadites would love to play here again sometime, okay?"

Leo nodded, and the band finally packed up their equipment and left for their hotel, although they had to hire a chauffeur since they and their manager were all too tired to drive.

As soon as Piper saw Leo for the first time since her giggling fit ended, she burst into tears. Vincent wondered if maybe he had somehow overdone the undo command.

"Oh, Leo, I am so, so sorry! I don't know what came over me; it was like I couldn't help it! Oh, please, please forgive me!" She sobbed uncontrollably; this did absolutely nothing to help Vincent feel good about himself.

Leo shushed her and hugged her tightly, allowing her to sob on his shoulder. "It's okay, Piper, it's not your fault. It's over now." He gave Vincent a look that could have pierced lead.

"Um…I'm sorry for whatever I did. Now could someone please, _please_,tell me what that was?" asked a frustrated Vincent.

"We will all discuss this later at the manor," replied Leo. "Now get out of here!"

--

_A/N: So what happened at P3 the night before? The mystery will finally be revealed in the next chapter. _

_Thanks again for all your feedback, I always love hearing what you have to say._


	9. The Night Before, Part I

A few hours later that day (a little before noon, to be exact), the Charmed Ones (including Phoebe, who had finally woken up), Vincent, and Leo were all once again sitting around the dining table.

"Okay, if nobody else wants to go first, I will," said Leo. The other four nodded.

Leo began his account of what he had seen.

--

_5:46 am (six hours earlier)_

Leo had had a long night, and was very tired; he had been up all night dealing with his charges.

He orbed into his and Piper's bedroom, and started to get undressed. However, as he sat down to take off his shoes, he noticed that Piper was not there; in fact, the bed was completely unmade.

He crept out of the bedroom and down the hallway. As he passed Prue's room, he wondered if she had a bad cold; the snoring coming from her room was obnoxiously loud.

He slowly made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen. No lights were turned on; the place was as dark as could be.

"Piper?" he called out softly. No response. Where was she?

He went back upstairs, hoping he could ask Phoebe to help find her, but found that she wasn't in her bedroom. He decided not to ask Prue, since she sounded like she was under the weather.

"Where is she?" he asked to no one in particular. He decided to try to sense her. Standing still and becoming quiet, he reached out.

_What on earth?_ For some reason, he was sensing that she was still at P3.

He orbed himself into the alley behind the club. The first thing that he heard when he rematerialized was loud rock music coming from inside.

_Since when does P3 stay open this late? And since when does any band play this long?_ Leo was puzzled as he went inside.

Immediately, two things greeted his eyes that struck him as being out of the ordinary.

The first was that in one corner of the room, a keg stand was being conducted, where two men were holding a third by his ankles over the keg while he guzzled as much beer as quickly as possible. Nearby, a group was observing this while chanting "Chug! Chug! Chug!" What Leo found strange was that the person chugging the beer was Darryl Morris.

The second thing that Leo found out of the ordinary was that an attractive woman dressed in only her underwear was standing on the counter doing a pole dance for a cheering crowd of men (and even a few women; it was San Francisco, after all).

_Geez, why isn't Piper doing anything to stop this? Couldn't she have called the police or something?_ Then Leo saw who the pole dancer was.

"Piper! What the hell?!" His exclamation drew her attention, and to his surprise, she _smiled._

"Hey, Leo! Glad you could make it tonight!"

"Piper, please come down from there! This isn't right!"

The only response Leo got from his wife was her bra flying through the air and smacking him in the face; sounds of cheering and clapping followed.

_Oh, my god, she's under a spell._ He decided that the only way to handle this for now was to take direct action.

Jumping up onto the counter, he walked over to her and grabbed her around the waist and jumped off the counter while holding her. This was greeted with several boos, and a few from the crowd came forward to attempt to stop him.

"Back off!" he growled. "She's my wife!" This stopped Piper's would-be rescuers in their tracks; hell hath no fury like a jealous husband.

He successfully managed to put her bra back on her body and drag her to the office in the back, while she giggled and flirted with nearby customers that they passed.

However, no sooner were they inside the office when suddenly, Piper _vanished_ from Leo's arms. Leo, no longer holding onto anything, fell over backwards, barely missing hitting his head on the desk.

"What the…where'd she go?" He looked out of the office and saw Piper once again giggling and flirting with the clientele.

_I don't believe it; she _froze_ me!_

Leo sighed. He needed some help from someone immune to her freezing powers, and her sisters were probably either too tired to help him out. Who would be in condition to assist him right now?

He remembered that one of his charges was a male witch who lived in Tokyo, which was sixteen hours ahead of the clock here. That would make it around 10:00 p.m. there, early enough that he wouldn't be in bed yet. There was also a woman who lived in Louisiana, where it was now around 8:00 a.m. She would be up by now, but she didn't have to go to work for another two hours.

_God,_ thought Leo, as he orbed over to Tokyo first. _This is going to be embarrassing, asking them for help._ _As if the situation isn't embarrassing enough as it is._

A short while later, Piper was very surprised when she was again grabbed off the counter, this time by an Asian man who spoke no English and an auburn-haired woman who spoke it with a Cajun accent.

The dragged Piper into the office and forcibly put her clothes (which they and Leo had first had to recover from the crowd) back on her. Piper tried to freeze them, but to no avail, since they were witches, so instead she continued to giggle and flirt.

_What could have done this,_ Leo wondered. Then it hit him. He turned to Piper.

"Piper, was Vincent here earlier tonight?"

"Yeah, why?" she replied, still laughing and running one hand along the Japanese man's thigh. Leo could tell that he was trying hard not to react.

"Attention on me, Piper. Tell me, did you by any chance _talk_ to Vincent? Answer me, Piper!"

"Yeah, sure, he came to the bar, sat down, ordered a few drinks, chatted with me, that sort of thing, you know."

This was all Leo needed to hear. Instructing his charges to keep Piper in the office, he picked up the phone and dialed the Halliwell manor. After two rings, a man's deep and very tired voice mumbled, "Hello?"

"Vincent, get your ass down here, you sick son of a bitch!"

--

"…and you know what happened after," finished Leo.

Everybody looked at him, and then at each other.

"Forgive me," said Vincent, "but I'm still a little fuzzy. Could you by any chance tell me what exactly I said to you, Piper, or at least what led up to it?"

Piper took a deep breath, and began.

--

_8:42 p.m. (the night before)_

Piper and Bill (the fulltime bartender) finished hauling up the cases of alcoholic drinks from the club basement while the band was setting up. A large crowd had already gathered, and many more were still coming in.

She saw Vincent come in and waved at him. He approached and sat down at the bar.

"Something to drink?" she asked.

"Sure; how about a rum and coke?" he replied.

"Coming right up." She took out a glass and poured him his drink. "I would ask you for your ID, you know, but you'd probably just command your way out of giving it to me."

"Don't worry, I'm old enough," he replied.

"You and Prue getting along yet?" she asked, setting his drink down on the coaster.

"Not really, but I think we've sort of reached a love/hate level. You know, like Brian and Stewie."

"Who?"

"Um…reference to a show I watch. Trust me, you'll get the joke in a few years after it's been cancelled, become really popular, and then brought back."

"Oh…okay."

Someone sat down next to Vincent, who turned and saw that it was Darryl.

"Hey, Inspector," said Piper. "Wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Yeah, well, the wife's out with her friends, and I've got the evening to myself and nothing else to do. I'll have the usual."

"Here you go," she replied, placing his vodka in front of him.

After a short while, the band finally started up, to the delight of the cheering crowd. Darryl and Vincent continued ordering, and a few drinks later, they had had just enough that they starting debating (in slurred speech) over which _Buffy_ characters they would most want to have sex with (Piper was very surprised to learn that Darryl was a _Buffy_ fan). Darryl preferred Willow because she had the whole cute and innocent thing going for her, and Vincent preferred Cordelia because she apparently had a "finer ass", as he so delicately put it.

_Men, _thought Piper, shaking her head. _Get them to drink enough, and soon they're all balls and no brains._

"That's it, no more alcohol for the two of you. I'm cutting you off; you're already talking like this, and the buzz hasn't even had time to fully set in yet," she said to them, eliciting groans of protest. "Why don't you go have fun on the dance floor or something?"

"Hows about you join us?" slurred Vincent.

Piper smiled. "I've got to man the bar."

"You've got Bill here to do that; c'mon, now go out there and lose your inhibitions for a while; entertain the customers and all, you know?"

"Oh, alright."

--

"I think I'm starting to see it," interrupted a now-very-sober Vincent. "I told you to 'lose your inhibitions' and 'entertain the customers'…and that's exactly what you did. Oh, God, I am so sorry, Piper."

"It's alright; I know you didn't intend for it to happen like that," she replied quietly.

Vincent nodded. "Please continue."

"Actually, I'm done. Someone else here will have to fill you in on the rest; it would be too difficult for me."

Everybody nodded in understanding.

"Who wants to go next?" asked Leo.

--

_A/N: Wow, it's taking longer than I thought it would to tell this part of the story; I decided to split up the night at P3 into two parts. You'll hear the rest of the gang's antics from that night in the second part._

_Special thanks to PiperandLeoFan101 for suggesting the idea that inspired the creation of this part of the story; I managed to milk a few chapters out of it!_

_As always, your feedback is highly appreciated._


	10. The Night Before, Part II

"How about you, Phoebe?" asked Piper. "I seem to remember you were there watching my embarrassing antics."

Phoebe sighed. "I arrived a little over an hour after the concert started…"

--

_10:09 p.m._

"Hey, Prue, when did you get here?" asked Phoebe as she walked into P3.

"About half an hour ago," replied her sister.

"Is this group any good?" asked Phoebe, gesturing toward the Deadites.

"They're not bad." She pointed at the drum set which was currently taking heavy stress from the group's percussionist. "See the chainsaw painted onto the bass drum?"

"Yeah, that's part of the band's _Evil Dead_ theme, right?"

Prue nodded, a reminiscent look in her eyes. "I remember Andy telling me once that his favorite movie was _Evil Dead II_."

Phoebe looked at her sister. "You still miss him, huh?"

Prue simply nodded.

"Where's Piper?" asked Phoebe, changing the subject.

"Not sure," replied Prue. "I've been enjoying the group so much that I haven't looked for her yet."

"Hey, ladies!" said an approaching Vincent, who was carrying a beer bottle in one hand.

"Hello, Vincent," replied Phoebe, grinning. "Had a little too much there?"

"Yeah, I think I have," slurred the writer. "The concert's been going on for over an hour; you should be getting drunk, too!"

"Yes, well, some of us know how to control ourselves," replied Prue. She decided to go dance, leaving Phoebe and Vincent with each other.

A man in a black leather jacket sporting a combed-back hairdo walked up to Phoebe. "Hey, baby, you looking for a good time?"

_Geez, kinda nostalgic for the fifties, aren't you,_ thought Phoebe.

She gave him a polite smile. "Not tonight, sorry."

"Your loss, baby." The greaser slapped her on the ass (eliciting a squeak from her) and walked away.

Phoebe looked after him angrily. "Oh, the nerve of some people!"

"Wow, that guy was a pain in the ass," slurred Vincent.

"Tell me something I don't know," replied Phoebe, still rubbing her backside.

"You shouldn't let people like him get away with that, seriously! Any guy hits on you, you make sure to let him know it's not appreciated. Hit him if you think that's what it will take." Vincent took a swig from the bottle and then stumbled back onto the dance floor, where he started dancing with a grace that ranked just below that of a wild chimpanzee.

"LET'S PARTY ON FOREVER!!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.

--

"So _that's_ why the party was still going on this morning," realized Vincent. "Damn, I sure do say weird things when I'm drunk."

He and Prue looked at each other. Their eyes reflected their fear of where Phoebe's story was going. Would she tell the group about the ménage-a-trois they had apparently had?

"Anyway," continued Phoebe. "I eventually went out on the dance floor, and I danced for a while. Then, all of a sudden, I started feeling weird."

--

_10:53 p.m._

Phoebe noticed that she was feeling dizzy and had started to stumble around.

_Whoa, am I getting sick or something?_ Phoebe was worried; her vision was starting to get a little distorted as well. For a second, she thought that she might be having a stroke.

Then she recognized the symptoms.

"I'm _drunk?!_" she shouted (no one could hear her, however, due to the noise); her shout was slightly slurred. "How the fuck is that possible? I haven't even had a drink yet!"

A man came up to Phoebe. "Hey, want to dance?"

_Wham!_ She responded by punching him in the nose, knocking him to the floor. As she walked off, the man called her something that she didn't quite catch, but it sounded like "runt".

Looking around, she managed to find Prue, who also seemed to be having trouble maintaining stability on her feet. In one hand she was holding a 12 oz. beer bottle.

"Hey, Prue?" said Phoebe. "Are you drunk?"

Prue giggled. "Yes, I think I am. And from the looks of it, so are you."

"How much have you had to drink?"

"Well, including this bottle, I'd say I've had exactly…" Her eyes lit up with realization, and she looked at the bottle. "…about a third of this bottle. Whoa. That stuff must be stronger than I thought. How much have you had?"

"Uh…none."

They looked at each other, and simultaneously realized what had happened.

"Vincent," they both said at once.

"He told us that we should be getting drunk," Phoebe recalled.

Prue nodded. "What do you say we go find him and see if he can undo this?"

A young man who Phoebe recognized from her psychology class came up to her.

"Hey, Phoebe—"

_WHOP!_

--

"Oh, c'mon, you can't blame me for that one!" protested Vincent. "All he did was say hello, which I hardly think qualifies as hitting on you!"

"Yes, well, I think my being drunk, which I _can_ blame you for, played a part in my interpreting it that way," replied Phoebe.

"So how many more people can I be expecting lawsuits from, Pheebs?" asked Piper.

"I think I hit a couple more after that, that's about it. Anyway, we found Vincent shortly afterward."

--

_11:15 p.m. _

"Hey, ladies," slurred the grinning writer. "What's going on?"

"What's going on is that we're DRUNK, mister!" Phoebe slurred back.

"Yeah? Good job!"

"And it's your fault, too!" said an also-slurring Prue. "And we need you to fix it!"

Vincent, however, had quit listening as something had caught his attention. "Dude, look at Piper!" he said.

They looked, and were shocked by what they saw.

Piper was dancing in very provocative fashion, moving around the dance floor. As they watched, she went up to several men and did things such running her hands over her body or shaking her ass at them, or even bumping and rubbing up against them. None of the men seemed to have any objections whatsoever. If Prue or Phoebe had been sober, they would have tried to get Piper out of there. As it was, however, all they could do was stand there, mesmerized.

As she watched this, Phoebe caught something out of the corner of her eye. Turning to look, she saw that it was a beautiful, redheaded woman dressed in leather pants and a black, sleeveless top. Phoebe recognized her as being a regular at the club. She didn't know all that much about her, but she did know at least two things. The first was that her name was Sara, and the second was that she was a proud lesbian. She seemed to not be able to take her eyes off of Piper.

_Wow, I'll bet Sara's enjoying this,_ thought Phoebe. _Too bad for her that Piper doesn't swing that way._

Phoebe turned her gaze back to Piper. To her surprise, she saw that Piper had apparently caught Sara's look, and was approaching her.

"Oh, Christ," Phoebe heard Prue swear. "Is she going to…?"

Piper started dancing with Sara in the exact same fashion that she had danced with the men; this elicited cheers from a few.

Phoebe nodded in response to Prue. "I think she is."

"Dude, that is so hot…" muttered Vincent.

The Deadites ended their song, and then started immediately into their next one. As Phoebe watched, Piper leaned over and whispered something into Sara's ear. A look of surprise appeared on Sara's face, followed by her laughing and nodding her head.

"Hey, guys, what's up?" The three of them turned to see Darryl Morris standing there, drunk as ever.

"Not sure, exactly," replied Vincent, who was nearly drooling; they all turned back to Piper and Sara. "But I think we're about to find out."

Piper grabbed a chair from one of the tables and moved it over to where Sara was, then gestured for her to sit down. The redhead giggled as she did so.

"Oh. My. God." Prue was realizing what they were about to do. "Piper is seriously not going to…"

As Prue, Phoebe, Vincent, and Darryl watched with mixed reactions of horror and lust (although all four of them were fascinated one way or the other), Piper straddled Sara and started grinding against her.

"Piper's giving another woman a lapdance?! That's awesome!" said Darryl, watching as Piper took hold of Sara's head such that the redhead's face was pressed between the Charmed One's breasts.

"I have to admit, I'm kinda impressed," said Phoebe. "Somehow, I can't look away."

--

Piper and Vincent were both looking terribly embarrassed at this point in Phoebe's story.

"So what happened afterward, Phoebe?" asked Leo. Vincent and Prue both tensed up.

"Umm…from what I can remember, I hit a few more guys who tried to hit on me, and when Vincent saw this, he said it was time for me to leave, so I went home to bed."

"That's it?" asked Leo, as the writer and the oldest Charmed One held their breath.

"Yeah," replied Phoebe.

Vincent and Prue exhaled with relief.

"Oh, wait, there was one more thing!" exclaimed Phoebe. Vincent and Prue eyes shot wide open with horror.

"As I was leaving the club, I saw that Darryl and some of his new friends had apparently decided to go streaking."

"Well, thanks for _that_ lovely image," muttered Piper.

"What did Darryl _not_ do that night?!" asked Leo.

Vincent and Prue both exhaled again.

--

A few hours later, Vincent and Prue were alone, discussing what had happened.

"You think Phoebe was just covering for herself and us?" asked Vincent.

Prue shook her head. "No, I'm pretty good at telling when she's lying."

"So what was she doing in your bedroom then?"

"She probably was so tired and drunk that she didn't notice which bedroom she went into. I guess we just didn't see her when we got into the bed."

"And the being naked part?"

"She always sleeps naked."

"Oh."

"Although that still doesn't tell us whether or not you and I did it."

The writer shrugged. "I doubt it. If I was as drunk as the stories made be out to be, I'm not sure I could have even gotten it up."

Prue nodded slowly. "It'd probably be best if we just left it at that and made no further attempts to find out the truth."

Vincent nodded back. "Yeah."

--

Phoebe found the number for her psychology professor and dialed it.

A male voice answered. "Hello, Dr. Schroeder's office."

"Yes, hi, it's Phoebe Halliwell, I'm a student in your class. I was hoping I could get some help from you on that dream analysis assignment."

"Certainly, Miss Halliwell."

"You told us to interview someone about a dream they had so that we could analyze it in our paper, right?"

"Yes, that's correct."

"I was wondering I use a dream that I myself had?"

"I generally don't like students doing that, Miss Halliwell."

"Yes, I know, but this one was rather vivid and unique, and I thought it could be useful for my paper."

Phoebe heard the man at the other end sigh. "It depends. What was it?"

"What, you want me to tell you right now?" Phoebe's face turned red; she was glad that Dr. Schroeder could not see her right now. "Uh, well, it's rather embarrassing…"

"Oedipal issues? Please, Miss Halliwell, we all have those kind of dreams, and we're both adults. What was your dream?"

"Um, ok, you see, it wasn't actually an oedipal thing, at least not in the sense of involving my parents."

"Go on."

"It involved this guy I just met, and—"

"Are you romantically interested in this fellow?"

"Jesus Christ, no!"

"There's no need to get angry, Miss Halliwell."

"I'm sorry, I'm not angry, it's just that…well, trust me, if you knew this guy, you'd understand why I snapped at you. Anyway, in my dream, I wake up in the middle of the night in my oldest sister's bed, and I see that she is also in bed next to me, making out with this guy, and they're both tearing each other's clothes off and acting drunk."

"Interesting," replied the professor, his voice betraying no particular tone.

"Then they notice me. They both stare at me, surprised, and then Prue—that's my sister—smiles. She pushes the guy off of her, and then puts her arms around me, and we start making out. I find—in the dream, that is—that I'm actually _into_ it, if you catch my drift. And you know what's even weirder? The dream was so vivid that I even remember smelling the alcohol on her breath, and—"

--

Prue did not want to hear any more. She took her ear off of Phoebe's door and walked away quickly, a stream of thought going through her head.

_Ohmygod ohmygod I do not want to know how that dream ended ohmygod ohmygod that is so gross it was just a dream it was just a dream just keep telling yourself that it was just a dream ohmygod why did I even listen to her say all that? _

Prue decided to go upstairs to the attic to see if she could find some memory dust. It was not Phoebe that she needed to use it on.

--

_A/N: I am so sorry for having taken so long to get this chapter out. It's a really busy time at college right now, especially for a computer engineering major like me, and the next week or so is going to be hell (and that's all _before _finals!). Anyways, to make up for the delay, I made this chapter extra long. _

_Maybe I wimped out, I dunno, but as you can see, I decided to leave it vague as to what really happened between Prue, Phoebe, and Vincent. Hope y'all can take that. _

_At least I've finished the P3 thing now. Thanks again to PiperandLeoFan101 for the idea. I currently have an idea for taking the story in a whole different direction, but it may be a while before I update, due to my classes and all, so bear with me. _

_As usual, I'm lovin' the feedback. _


	11. An Explosion of Blue Light

The next several days were rather uneventful; Leo did his Whitelighter duties, Cole continued to evade demon bounty hunters, Darryl worked at the station, the Charmed Ones vanquished a couple of demons, and Vincent mostly just hung around the house. Then, one day…

"We found it!" said Phoebe excitedly, clapping her hands.

Leo and Vincent, who were both sitting on the couch watching television, looked up at her questioningly.

"Found what?" asked Leo.

"A way to send Vincent home!"

Vincent's face lit up. "Really?"

Phoebe nodded. "It took us a few days, but after a ton of looking through the Book of Shadows and buying many different ingredients and ordering spell books online, we finally managed to put something together. As far as we can tell, there's no reason it shouldn't work."

"So…when can we do it?" asked Vincent.

"Right now, as a matter of fact!"

"Oh…okay." The three of them made their way up to the attic, where Prue and Piper were already waiting.

Prue pointed to the center of the floor. "Stand right there."

Vincent obeyed, and looked upon the other four people in the room.

"Well, good knowing you guys. I guess I'll just have to go back to watching you on DVD. Um, is there anything you need before I go?" he asked.

"Didn't you put Prue in a permanent state of celibacy? You could undo that before you go," said Phoebe.

Vincent's eyes shifted uneasily between Prue and Phoebe. "Um, yeah, you're right. I hereby officially end Prue's ban on sex. So what are you guys going to do?"

Each of the sisters took out a small bottle of liquid.

"The three of us are going to throw our potions at you, all at once," explained Piper. "Then we will recite this spell we wrote. Ready?"

When he heard that he was going to have glass bottles thrown at his body, Vincent instinctively used one hand to cover his face and the other to protect his crotch. "Yeah, I'm ready."

"Okay, then," said Piper. "On the count of three…one…two…THREE!"

"Ow! Ow! Ow!" cried Vincent as each bottle hit him and shattered against his chest.

The sisters recited their spell.

"Send this writer home, help him cross the gap, make sure he never bothers us again with his crap."

Vincent looked down at himself, and saw that blue light was coming from the places on his chest where the bottles had shattered. As he, the sisters, and Leo watched, the blue light started spreading, covering his abdomen and neck. He felt it creeping up over his mouth, his nose, and then everything went black.

The sisters saw what happened afterward. Eventually the blue light covered Vincent's entire body, and then started getting brighter and brighter.

"It's working!" shouted Prue.

Then something went wrong.

A loud _BOOM _was heard, and the blue light exploded outward from Vincent's body. The sisters and Leo were blown back against the wall, and the attic window (which had just been recently replaced) shattered. The blue light spread and consumed the Charmed Ones and their Whitelighter.

--

Downstairs, Cole Turner had just shimmered into the living room, wanting to see Phoebe, when he heard the explosion. Looking up, he saw blue light come through the ceiling before it engulfed him.

--

Darryl Morris had just pulled into the driveway; he wanted to tell the Charmed Ones about a new bizarre case that had just come up, hoping that they may have some leads. As he stepped out of his car, the attic window above him shattered. He covered his face to shield himself against the falling glass. When he looked up again, a blue light came from the now-broken window, and he screamed as it struck him, before he went unconscious.

--

Afterwards, the light receded back into the house. There were no traces to be seen of the seven people who had been within immediate distance of what had taken place in the attic.

--

_Author's Note: Finally, a new chapter out. Sorry it took me so long; first I had to deal with finals, which just ended last week, and then Best Buy shipped off my laptop for repair (the hinges were cracked), which took an additional week._

_Anyways, I definitely have an idea of where to take the story now, so onward, faithful readers! Hopefully I'll have another chapter out soon. As always, leave feedback!_


	12. Coming Home, Or Not

Vincent opened his eyes, and found himself staring up at the sky.

_This doesn't look like my dorm room_ was the first thought that went through his mind.

Standing up, he looked around. He found that he had been laying on the concrete in an alley.

_Okay, this does not look like Fayetteville,_ he thought. Had the spell failed? He decided to conduct a test.

Noticing a penny on the ground, he commanded, "Penny float over to my hand!"

It didn't move a millimeter.

_Okay,_ thought Vincent, smiling. _If my powers don't work here, then I guess I'm in the real world._ He heard a sound behind him, and he turned.

Darryl and Prue were both getting up on the concrete.

Vincent's face dropped. Oh, no. What were _they_ doing here?

"What happened?" asked Prue, looking around.

"What's going on? How did I wind up here?" asked Darryl, frantically jerking his head left and right.

Vincent explained. "The Charmed Ones attempted a spell to send me home, and apparently something went wrong. I'm just not sure what."

"That's not possible!" said Prue. "We triple-checked _everything_—spells, ingredients, potions…"

"Well, I guess _something_ must have worked," said Vincent. "I don't have my power anymore."

Prue's eyes grew wide. "Does that—does that mean we're in your world?"

"I'm not sure yet. I'm not even sure where we are."

Prue looked toward the alley exit. "Wait a minute…"

She ran out of the alley, with Vincent and Darryl following behind. They looked around.

"We're still in San Francisco?!" said Vincent in disbelief. "Oh, you've got to be _kidding_ me!"

"Where should we be?" asked Darryl.

"Well, I was hoping that _I_ would be in Fayetteville, Arkansas, and _you_ would be nowhere in plain sight!" replied Vincent.

Worry developed on Prue's face. "Wait a minute…Phoebe! Piper! Are they alright? We've got to find them!"

Vincent nodded. "The best place to look would be your house...if it actually exists, in which case we'll know that we're not in my world." Prue and Darryl agreed this was the best plan for now.

--

Thirty minutes and a taxi ride later, they were staring at Halliwell manor.

Vincent turned to Prue. "Did you put something in those potions to make me lose my powers?" he asked.

"Not a damn thing," replied Prue. "There were no ingredients in those potions that would also be used in a binding potion."

Vincent turned back to the house. "Well, I don't have my powers, so we probably aren't in _your_ world. The house exists, which means we are most definitely not in _my_ world."

"So where does that leave us?" asked Darryl.

"Best I can figure, we've landed in someone else's fanfic by accident."

"Which basically means that anyone or anything could be in that house," remarked Prue. "I've noticed that that's not my car in the driveway."

Vincent nodded. "True, but what other choice do we have?"

Prue nodded back. "I'll let you ring the doorbell."

Vincent walked up to the front door, with the other two following him. He slowly reached out and pushed the button.

_Ding dong._

Twenty seconds later, the door opened, revealing a young brunette woman. She was rather short, but very pretty.

A realization hit Vincent hard. Though this woman was neither Piper nor Phoebe, he still recognized her, and horror crept onto his face.

"Oh, Jesus. Oh, no. I forgot. Oh, god, did I ever forget…"

The young woman gave him a weird look. "Uh…hello to you, too. Can I help you with something?"

Vincent did not answer, but kept muttering. "I should have warned her. Oh, God, I should have warned her."

The woman noticed Darryl standing behind Vincent. "Hey, Darryl, is something wrong with this guy?"

Darryl was confused by the fact that this young, pretty stranger apparently knew him on a first-name basis. "I'm sorry, have we met?"

Vincent answered for him. "No, you haven't met her, Darryl. But you will."

"Vincent, what the hell is going on? What's wrong with you?" asked Prue demandingly.

Vincent turned toward Prue slowly. "I am so sorry, Prue. There's something I should have told you before."

"Wait," said the young brunette. "Did you just call her Prue?"

Prue raised her hands, prepared to use her powers. "Who is this woman, Vincent? Is she a demon?"

Vincent shook his head and then turned and gestured toward the woman, who was now looking extremely bewildered.

"Prue Halliwell," began Vincent. "Say hello to your half-sister Paige Matthews."

--

_A/N: What do you think? Interesting new direction? Let me know your opinions!_

_Worry not, you'll catch up to the remaining characters in later chapters; there will probably also be some crossovers worked in as well (hey, it IS a parody of fanfiction, afterall). Enjoy!_


	13. Cole becomes a Christian

"Damn it!" screamed Piper as she slammed the receiver and walked out of the phone booth.

"They weren't there?" asked Phoebe.

"Worse! I got a recording saying that our phone number doesn't exist!"

"So we're not in our universe anymore," stated Phoebe matter-of-factly.

"Gee, you think?"

"What the hell did you put in your potion, Piper?"

"Exactly what you saw me put in, Phoebe!" snapped Piper. "Besides, how do I know that it wasn't _your_ potion that screwed everything up?"

"You're the one who came up with the exact mixture, Piper, down to the exact amounts of the ingredients and everything!"

Neither of them said anything for a while, just stared at each other angrily.

"Maybe it was Prue's fault," Phoebe said finally.

"Yeah. Maybe so. Either way, something went wrong." Piper gestured at the tall buildings around her. "All I know is, it was supposed to send Vincent home, and apparently, instead, it sent _us_ to _Miami_! In another universe, no less!"

"Take it easy, Piper," responded Phoebe. "At least the two of us are together. We'll figure a way out of here. For now, though, I'd like to get something to eat; my stomach is about to implode."

Piper's stomach was growling as well. She sighed. "Alright."

They walked up the street in downtown Miami, looking for an affordable place to eat. Suddenly, something, or rather someone, caught Phoebe's eye.

"Oh my god…is that—COLE!!" She ran across the street toward a diner with round, outdoor patio tables, each with a large parasol shielding it.

Cole was seated at one of the tables, eating a sandwich and reading a newspaper. He was dressed in a white suit, and wearing aviator sunglasses.

"Cole! Cole!" As she ran toward him, Phoebe saw Cole look up at her and remove his sunglasses. His face reflected a mixture of surprise and confusion.

She reached him and threw her arms around him (he was still sitting). "Oh, god, Cole Turner, you have no idea how glad I am to see you!" she cried right before she kissed him hard on the lips. Piper (who had just arrived at the table) nearly giggled at how wide Cole's eyes grew.

Phoebe finally released her embrace and looked at him; he stared back with an expression that made her wonder if he was a little bit freaked out. "Hey, are you okay, Cole?"

He stared at her for a few seconds, and then cleared his throat and finally spoke.

"Um…excuse me; I think you have me mistaken for someone else."

"What?"

"At least you have my initials right." Smiling, he reached into the left pocket on his jacket and pulled out a business card, handing it to them. "Christian Troy. I'm a plastic surgeon."

Phoebe at first thought that maybe this was one of Cole's methods of hiding from the demon assassins, but then remembered that she was in another universe. She recalled that Vincent had once accidentally addressed Cole as "Dr. Troy" before correcting himself. She briefly wondered if Christian Troy was the actor who played Cole in Vincent's universe, but then decided that it was probably another character played by that actor, whomever he was (perhaps that McMahon person whose name had also been dropped by Vincent?); after all, television acting would be a rather strange second job for a plastic surgeon. _I guess that rules out the possibility that we're in Vincent's universe,_ she thought.

"I'm so sorry," said Phoebe. "I thought you were someone else."

"Someone who looks quite a bit like me," replied Christian, lifting one eyebrow.

"That would be an understatement, but yes," replied Phoebe. "I'm sorry; I won't waste anymore of your time, Dr. Troy." She turned and started to walk away. Piper, who had been watching the entire thing, gave both Phoebe and the doctor a look of confusion before following her sister.

For a moment, Christian was uncertain how to react. He briefly wondered if the woman was a little crazy, but quickly dismissed the idea; she had acted perfectly sane after realizing that he wasn't Cole. She was beautiful, and naturally so, too. Years of work in his profession had taught him to be able to tell when one's assets were real and when they weren't. Hers almost certainly were, and yet her beauty rivaled or even exceeded that of most of the women he had ever screwed (which said quite a bit, considering the high number that those women composed). Her sister wasn't too bad looking, either (he briefly fantasized about having a threesome with them; would they be open to that idea?). He decided that, for now, he would like to get to know this woman who apparently loved his doppelganger.

"Hey! Wait a minute!" he shouted after them, running up to them. They turned and looked at him questioningly. "How about lunch? On me?"

The two Charmed Ones were hesitant, but their growling stomachs and limited cash settled the question.

--

_A/N: Finally, another chapter…I'm so sorry it took so long. Work has been keeping me a lot more busy than college usually does._

_Anyways, as you can see, I decided to work a yet another Nip/Tuck crossover into a Charmed fanfic…hope some of y'all are fans. Let me know what you think!_


	14. Crossover Avenue

"What happened? Where the hell are we?" Cole jerked his head around, trying to gain his bearings.

"I don't know," replied Leo. "I remember the sisters were trying to send Vincent home, and then he started glowing blue, and then there was a flash, and you know the rest. How did you get here? You weren't even there!"

"Oh," replied Cole. "I guess that explains it."

"Explains what?"

"I was downstairs right around that time, and the last thing I remember was a blue flash suddenly coming from the ceiling."

"Oh."

"So where are we?"

"Best I can figure, we're still in California," replied Leo, pointing. "There's the Pacific. Still though, if you were trying to send Vincent to his own world, then we may not be in ours any longer."

"Maybe that kid over there can help us," suggested Cole.

"What kid?"

"The one working at that concession stand shaped like a giant banana." Cole squinted his eyes to read the sign better. "Bluth's Frozen Bananas."

"That's a giant banana?" said Leo. "I thought it was a big yellow joint!"

Cole rolled his eyes. "Longing for our hippie days, are we?"

"Shut up."

They walked up to the banana stand.

"Excuse me—" Cole looked down at the teen's nametag. "—George Michael, could you help us?"

"Um, sure, yeah," replied George Michael Bluth, who seemed to be rather nervous.

"Did you by any chance see three women walk by here together?"

"Um, no." Leo and Cole were both disappointed.

"Well, would you happen to have a map we could use?" asked Leo.

"Sure, here." George Michael reached behind the stand and pulled out the folded map, then handed it to them.

They thanked him and walked away. Opening up the map, they stared at it for a few moments.

"Wow," Leo finally said. "They sure do give the streets weird names around here."

"Yeah, I know. Let's see…we're standing on Crossover Avenue right now, if we head up in this direction, we'll come to the intersection with Angst Street."

Leo noticed something peculiar. "Hey, are you seeing this? It appears that just about all the streets eventually converge at the center of town here."

"You're right! I wonder what's there?"

"Well, if we're going to find the others, I guess that would be a good place to start."

Right as he said that, a car pulled up next to them. The driver appeared to be Indian and his passenger was obviously of Asian descent.

The Indian stuck his head out the window and asked in a flawless American accent, "Hey, dude, would you happen to know where White Castle is?"

Leo pointed. "Yeah, I think I may have seen one back that direction."

"Thanks, dude." The car drove off.

The half-demon and the Whitelighter started walking along Crossover Avenue. After a few blocks, they came to a town. As they continued, they reached an intersection. The small street that intersected the large one on which they walked appeared only as a small, gray thread on the map. The sign read, " Femslash Drive".

"Wow, that's gotta be the strangest street name yet," remarked Leo.

Something fired off in Cole's memory. Crossover…angst…femslash…he remembered these words previously being associated together somehow, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

Then it hit him. "Leo…these street names…I remember seeing them when we were reading the fanfics!"

Leo processed this for a second then said, "Okay, I think I may know what you're talking about, but refresh my memory."

"Well, I remember that most of the stories had a little set of information that came before each of them which included the author's name, the title of the story, and a brief summary."

Leo's eyes lit up as he also remembered. "You're right! And the summary usually included these words to inform the reader what they were about to read. But what did they mean?"

"Well, the word 'crossover' meant that the story involved characters from a movie or TV series; I know this, because when the summary used the word, it always said something like, 'Crossover with Buffy' or 'Crossover with Heroes'."

"What's 'Heroes'?"

"Beats me. Anyway, I remember that the word 'slash' showed up quite a bit, and I believe it was always used in connection with gay couples, so I guess 'femslash' would denote lesbian couples."

As if to emphasize Cole's point, the two men suddenly heard a low moaning from nearby. They turned to see what it was.

As it turned out, there were two women who had appeared apparently out of nowhere. One of them, a brunette in black, had the other pushed up against the wall of one of the town's buildings, and they were kissing very passionately. The lighter-haired one broke the kiss so she could undo the brunette's belt. Cole and Leo simultaneously realized that the woman was…

"Phoebe?!" Cole was, needless to say, shocked.

His exclamation caused Phoebe to shriek; clearly, she had not known that she and the brunette weren't alone.

"Cole!" Her fearful face dissolved into a smile as she saw who it was. "How are you doing?"

"Um, fine, Pheebs, thank you. Who's this?" Cole thought that the brunette looked a little familiar, but he couldn't place her.

"Cole, I'd like you to meet Faith. Faith, this is Cole."

The brunette stuck out her hand. "Nice to meet you, C."

Cole slowly reached out and shook the hand. "Uhh…nice to meet you, too…F. Say, Phoebe, do you by any chance remember a blue light that recently went through your house?"

Phoebe gave him a blank look.

"I thought not," said Cole. "Look, I've got to get going. You two just keep doing…whatever it is you're doing." He continued to walk down the Avenue, with Leo following behind. Out of the corner of his eye, Leo saw that Faith was now feeling up Phoebe underneath her shirt.

When they had gotten a ways away, Leo stopped and asked, "Cole, what the hell was that? What's gotten into Phoebe?"

"That wasn't Phoebe," replied Cole, shaking his head. "At least not our Phoebe. An alternate one, I suppose."

"And her girlfriend?"

"I've seen her before. On _Buffy_."

Leo gave him a weird look. "You watch _Buffy_?"

"Yeah, it's surprisingly popular among the demon and warlock communities, but that's beside the point. We were at the intersection of Crossover and Femslash."

Leo nodded, as he realized what Cole was saying. "Right! It makes sense now. It involved a character from another series, hence the crossover part, and the femslash part…was rather obvious."

When Cole nodded, Leo sighed and asked a rhetorical question: "What kind of bizarre world have we landed in?"

--

_A/N: My apologies for having taken so long. For a long time, I was struggling with how to write this chapter, not to mention being bogged down by my job. Anyhoo, hope you enjoyed it._

_You'll find out soon enough what makes Leo and Cole's universe different from the ones that the others are stuck in. I hope to finish this story in ten chapters or less._

_ In addition to _Buffy_, this chapter also featured crossovers with the film _Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle _and the series _ Arrested Development _(quite possibly the best television comedy of all time). Kudos to those of you who got those references without even having to read this author's note._

_As always, please, please leave feedback._


	15. Four Charmed Ones Are Better Than Three

"Geez, Paige, how long does it take to figure out how to make a potion?" Vincent complained.

"Well, excuse me, Mr. Author, for never having to make a potion to switch dimensions, all because someone didn't know not to fuck with someone else's universe!" snapped Paige. Vincent held out his hands in front of him, palms out, indicating that he would back off.

Based on Vincent's explanations of the last potion they had used and the nature of his now-nonworking powers, Paige had been trying to figure out how to make another (working) potion, so that she could help Prue, Vincent, and Darryl get back to the world from whence they came. As he watched Paige work (often finding his eyes wondering to her well-shaped backside), Vincent reflected on what had happened earlier.

--

_Two hours earlier_

"My half-WHAT?!" had been Prue's initial reply to Vincent's introduction.

"May we come in?" Vincent had asked Paige. She consented.

As all four of them went into the living room, Prue had grabbed Vincent and turned him around so that he was facing her. "Alright, Mister, you've got some explaining to do! What's this about me having a half-sister?!"

"You should probably sit down," he had replied.

When she did sit, he had proceeded to explain to her that in the future, she was going to die, and that she would be replaced as the third Charmed One by Paige.

She had not taken it well. Tears had started pouring down her face, and she had demanded to know why he hadn't told her. Then she had collapsed into sobs.

--

As Paige continued to do research for the potion, Vincent decided to see how Prue was doing. Walking into the living room, he saw that she had now stopped crying; thankfully, Darryl had been there to comfort her while Vincent explained their situation to Paige. Currently, Darryl was laying back against the couch with his eyes closed, while Prue was leaning forward, her elbows resting on her knees, and staring into nothing. Vincent took a seat next to her opposite from Darryl and, for a moment, said nothing.

Finally, Prue broke the silence. "When?"

Vincent looked at her, puzzled. "When what?"

"When am I going to die?" she clarified.

The writer sighed; he was not renowned for being a great liar, so he decided to tell her the truth. "A couple months, give or take."

She said nothing, but simply nodded.

"Look, Prue," said Vincent. "I know I should have told you, but with everything that was going on, it just slipped my—"

"It's alright, Vincent. You don't have to explain."

He had opened his mouth to protest, but the opportunity died when he heard the front door open.

"We're home!" said a voice from behind the door.

"Paige? You here?" said another voice.

Vincent immediately recognized the voices as Phoebe's and Piper's, and for a split second he was delighted, until he realized that Piper had said Paige's name. He knew right then that it was only the Phoebe and Piper of this fanfic world, and not the one he, Prue, and Darryl had come from.

He suddenly remembered that Prue was sitting right next to him. _Oh, shit._

"Hi, you two!" said Paige, breezing into the room. "There's something I need to explain." Piper was carrying a bag of groceries in her arms.

"Paige, you smell funny; are you inventing a new potion—" Piper did not get to finish the question, as she had turned and seen the three people in the living room. It took her mind a brief moment to register who the young brunette in the living room was. As soon as it did, the bag of groceries fell out of her arms and hit the floor with a crash, sending fruit rolling across the hardwood.

"Jesus, Piper!" said Phoebe. "There were eggs in that—oh my god." Phoebe had now also seen her supposedly deceased sister sitting in the living room.

There was nothing but silence for the next ten seconds. Then Piper and Phoebe simultaneously ran up to Prue and started hugging her profusely.

"Ow! You're choking me! Nice to know I'll be missed after I'm gone!" exclaimed Prue.

"When you're gone? But you've been gone, Prue!" said Phoebe, staring at Prue through tearful eyes.

"Um, yeah, that's part of the something I wanted to explain," replied Paige.

Suddenly, they heard something behind them. They all turned and saw that a demon had shimmered in; they recognized him as Barbas.

"Hello," chuckled Barbas. "Just thought I'd let you know that I've come back yet again, and—AAAAHHH!! A GHOST!!!" After seeing Prue, he quickly shimmered out.

Piper noticed Vincent for the first time. "Look out! It's another demon!" Vincent jumped out of the way when he saw Piper raise her hands. She ended up blowing up a cushion, and Vincent dove behind the couch.

"Whoa, Piper!" exclaimed Paige. "Calm down; he's human, and he's on our side!"

"But he has a beard! When have we ever known a good guy who had a beard?! Well, I guess Darryl did for a while, but he's black, so it's acceptable!" The Darryl currently in the room scoffed at Piper's politically incorrect statement.

"Damn that WB, making us whiskered folk look bad," muttered Vincent from behind the couch.

"Paige, what's going on?" asked Phoebe. "Who's the fat guy?"

Paige took a deep breath.

--

Thirty minutes later, Paige had explained the situation to Phoebe and Piper, and, with their help, had finally completed the potion.

Phoebe and Piper hugged Prue goodbye, and Paige shook her hand and said it was great to have gotten to meet her. Finally, she, Darryl, and Vincent were assembled together on the floor. They split the potion three ways; this potion was drunk, rather than thrown. The Charmed Ones (with Paige as the third, of course) read aloud the spell they had written.

"Oh, beings of higher power, we ask of thee now, don't let this spell go sour, send these three back, to the place where the writer has power."

Smoke rose around Prue, Darryl, and Vincent, obscuring them from the Charmed Ones' sight. When it cleared, they were gone.

--

They found themselves standing in a field next to a highway. In the distance was a large city.

"Whew, that's a relief," said Vincent. "I was scared for a minute there that we were going to be accidentally sent to the Demonic Wasteland."

"The what-a-land?" asked Darryl.

"The Wasteland. The place where demons go after they get vanquished."

"Oh."

"Did the spell work?" asked Prue. "Are we back in our own world?"

"Only one way to find out," replied Vincent. He pointed at a flower. "Explode."

The flower did, sending petals flying.

"Well, I guess that answers that question," remarked Prue. "Now teleport us back to the house."

Vincent put his hands on Prue and Darryl's shoulders. "I command that we be teleported back to Halliwell Manor."

Nothing happened.

"What's wrong?" asked Darryl. "Why are we still here?"

"Maybe my power to teleport isn't working," replied Vincent.

"Well, that's just great," said an angry Prue. "I guess we'd better start walking."

"I think that will take a while," said Darryl. He pointed toward the city in the distance. "'Cause I'm pretty sure that isn't San Francisco."

The three of them starting walking toward the highway. When they got there, they looked at the sign. It read: "Dallas – Six Miles".

Vincent's mouth dropped open. "Oh, man, we're in _Texas?!_ Shit, now I wish we _had_ gone to the Wasteland!"

"God, of all the times for your teleportation not to work…" grumbled Darryl. "_Now_ how are we supposed to get home?!"

"Best I can think of is getting a ride to the airport," replied Vincent.

Since they apparently had no other options, they stuck their thumbs out as they walked by the highway. Eventually, a semi truck stopped, and they all crammed into the front with the driver, who initially gave Darryl and Vincent (especially the former) a rather apprehensive look, but then decided that Prue was attractive enough that it was worth the risk. Prue looked rather uncomfortable, seeing as she had, of course, wound up sitting next to the driver.

They passed several houses as they traveled toward Dallas. Suddenly, one in the distance caught Vincent's eye.

"Stop the truck!" he shouted.

The driver looked over at him, puzzled. "But the airport's still—"

"I know. Stop the truck."

Twenty seconds later, the disappointed driver sped away, and Prue and Darryl looked at Vincent in bewilderment.

"Not that I'm not glad to be away from that trucker, but why the hell did you have us stop here?" demanded Prue.

"I figured out why we couldn't teleport to Halliwell manor," Vincent replied.

Prue tilted her head to one side. "Oh, and why would that be?"

"Because it doesn't exist in this fanfic," replied Vincent.

"What?!" said Darryl. "But you have your powers, don't you?! That means we should be in our world, unless…" He trailed off as he realized what Vincent was saying.

Vincent nodded. "Figured it out yet?"

"Unless we're in another fanfic that you _also_ wrote," finished Prue.

"Correct," confirmed Vincent. "Did you notice how your sisters' spell did not specify a place, but rather only the place where 'the writer has power'?"

"So where are we going, then?" asked Darryl.

"If we're in the fanfic I'm thinking of, I think I know someone who can help us," replied Vincent, pointing. "I thought I may have recognized that house over there."

They reached the house and walked up the driveway. On the mailbox were the words "The Burkles". Vincent rang the doorbell, and the door opened.

On the outside, the one who answered the door appeared to be a young, beautiful woman who was very thin and athletic and had wavy, medium-brown hair. Vincent, of course, knew better.

"Hello, Illyria."

--

_A/N: The character is, of course, Illyria from the fifth season of _Angel._ The fanfic world that the characters are now in is the one from my one-shots 'The Voice Within' and its sequel 'The Voice Continues', where Illyria comes to live with the parents of Winifred "Fred" Burkle._

_It looks like that after this chapter, I may obtain my hundredth review on this fanfic. Good job on the feedback, guys; keep it up!_


	16. Christian Values

Piper and Phoebe were impressed with Christian Troy's apartment; it was quite nice, and they couldn't help but admire the glass window above Christian's bed that allowed one to see fully into the large walk-in shower. Yep, Cole's doppelganger may have been a bachelor, but he definitely knew how to keep a place.

Piper decided that she needed to do some research for spells that might help her and Phoebe find the others. Looking around, she saw that Christian had a computer.

"Say, could I get online?" she asked. "I need to look up something."

"Knock yourself out," the plastic surgeon replied. Piper nodded her thanks and sat down at the computer.

"Hey, Cole—I mean Christian—could I take a look at your shower?" asked Phoebe.

"Certainly." Christian opened the shower door and the two of them walked inside.

"Wow, this thing is huge!" exclaimed Phoebe. "If this shower were any bigger, I would think we were in a locker room!" She approached the wall, which was composed of lime green tile, and ran her hand over it.

She turned around, and saw that Christian was standing very close to her, leaving her nearly trapped between the wall and him. She reached her hands out in front of her, intending to push him away (in a friendly though warning manner), but instead found them reaching around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. And if the reader of this fanfic knows anything about Christian Troy, they will know that he didn't resist.

"Oh, Cole," she moaned when the kiss broke.

"Christian," corrected the plastic surgeon. Phoebe opened her eyes and looked up at him.

"—but you can call me Cole if you want," he added quickly. "Although I have to say, normally I'm the one who insists on calling the other person by a different name."

Piper wasn't having much luck finding anything useful online. She decided to get some help from Phoebe, figuring that she might have a better idea of where to research spells. Turning around, she looked for her sister, but couldn't see her. Was Christian still showing her the shower?

Standing up, Piper walked up to Christian's bed and looked through the window into the shower; she gasped at what she saw and ducked, blushing as she did so.

A few minutes later, the shower door opened, and out walked Phoebe, straightening her clothes and hair. Piper grabbed her by the arm and started pulling her toward the door.

"We've got to go, Pheebs."

"But—"

"No buts, sweetie. Something's come up."

As they walked out of the apartment, Christian came out of the shower, adjusting his suit, and looked around, seeing that the two women were gone. "Oh, _come on_!"

Phoebe and Piper got a distance away from Christian's apartment before Phoebe finally wrenched her arm out of Piper's grasp.

"Just hold it right there, sis! I'm not going a step further until you explain what's so important that we couldn't even say goodbye to Christian! What is this 'something' that has 'come up', huh? And don't make me get on my knees and beg!"

"Yeah, why not?" replied Piper angrily. "You sure as hell didn't mind getting on your knees for _him_!"

Phoebe's angry expression broke as it switched briefly to shock and then to disgust. "Ew, you were watching us? What are you, some kind of voyeur?"

"I wasn't 'watching' you, I _saw_ you when I was looking for you, but that's beside the point! The point is that man may look like Cole, but that doesn't change the fact that he isn't Cole and that you, in fact, were knowingly cheating on Cole!"

Phoebe was now nearly as red in the face as Cole's demon half. "But it's a different universe and Cole's not here, and besides, this guy's probably played by the same actor in Vincent's universe that plays Cole, so essentially it is Cole…right?"

Piper glared at Phoebe for a moment. "Somehow, I doubt Cole would see it that way."

"Don't you dare tell Cole about this, Piper! I mean it!"

Piper scoffed. "As if I could. Truth is, whoever that plastic surgeon was or whatever actor played him, it doesn't change the fact that we are still nowhere nearer to finding everybody else than we were two hours ago."

With perfect timing, a bright flash of light suddenly appeared out of the corner of Piper's right eye, and then she and Phoebe suddenly felt themselves being lifted off the ground, as though they were being sucked through something, before being enveloped in light; they both closed their eyes to avoid being blinded.

"It worked! We found your sisters, Prue!" they heard someone shout. Phoebe and Piper immediately recognized the voice as Vincent's.

--

_A/N: How did this happen, you ask? Wait and find out! Anyway, hope you enjoyed the Christian/Phoebe pairing, even though the chapter was brief. I apologize once again for the delay in getting this chapter out._

_As always, feedback is appreciated mucho._


	17. Emperor Roy and Fanfic Writer's Hell

"Let's face it, Cole, we're lost." Leo was starting to get tired from all the nonstop walking they had done since they had found themselves in this strange universe.

Cole pulled the map out once again. "We're not lost—okay, maybe we're a little lost, but I know that the center of town has to be somewhere nearby. Let's see if we can retrace our steps."

Leo nodded. "Okay. I remember that, after seeing Phoebe and that Faith woman, we kept walking, took a turn somewhere, and wound up at the corner of Tragedy and Angst—which, by the way, has got to be the most depressing intersection of all time!"

"No shit," replied Cole. "Everybody there was all sad, miserable, lonely, and suicidal."

"Then we took a couple more turns, and then found ourselves at a club that was named 'Just Plain Wrong'."

"God, that was disgusting! That was where we saw me and Prue—or rather, alternate versions of me and Prue—doing…stuff."

"Yeah, and this 'stuff' involved your clone being in his Belthazor form."

"Not to mention that Prue's parents and grandmother were involved in the 'stuff' as well."

"Oh, yes, and who can forgot that octopus-like creature that could do certain things with its tentacles that would be indescribable in a T-rated fanfic?"

"Ugh! Enough, Leo! It's going to hard as it is to scrub those images out of my brain! Just thinking about it makes me want to throw up…again. What kind of fucked-up people write this shit anyways?"

"I think they must have had really disturbed childhoods."

"I guess s—say, what's that?" Cole pointed toward the end of the street. Leo looked, and saw a large, round, domed building.

Leo looked at the map. "Hey, Cole, I think we found it!"

"You mean—?" Cole pointed at the spot on the map that indicated the center of town, where all the roads seemed to converge. Leo nodded, and immediately they ran toward the dome. The street led directly to a door in the building, which they entered.

What greeted their eyes was a large, round room with red carpeting. A throne sat directly in the center, facing Leo and Cole, and on it sat a man dressed in black; black pants, black shoes, and a black, button-up collared shirt. His face was handsome, yet ageless, and he had dark hair accompanied by a neatly trimmed beard.

"Welcome, Leonardo Wyatt. Welcome, Cole Turner." His voice was deep and commanding. "I've been expecting you."

The whitelighter and the half-demon said nothing for a moment, until the latter broke the silence.

"I'm sorry—_you've_ been expecting _us_?!"

The man in black smiled. "Lost, are you not? Found that you are no longer in your world, have you not?"

"Well…yes, you are correct, but how did—"

"It is my job to know, Cole. I am the ruler of this place."

This time Leo spoke up. "And what place might this be?"

The ruler stood and stretched out his arms, indicating his surroundings. "This, friends, is the World of Fanfiction Ideas. This is the place from which all fanfic writers draw their ideas, their inspirations. All the worlds created in fanfiction stem from this one."

A moment of silence followed before Cole spoke. "So what's your job, then, Mr.—?"

"I am known as His Royal Highness, the Emperor of the World of Fanfiction Ideas…or Roy, for short. And to answer your question, Leo, I run the place. I make sure that characters from new fandoms arrive safely and get housing, I make sure that order is maintained, and whenever something goes seriously wrong, as in your case, it is my job to fix the problem."

Leo's face lit up with hope. "Does this mean that you can find the others and send us back to our world?"

"Do not worry, Whitelighter, you will get home soon enough, but first I must bring your friends here so that I can explain how to fix the problem. But before we do all that, let me give you a tour of the place; I rarely get visitors from the outside, you know."

For a while, Roy led them on a walking tour. As it turned out, a lot of the inhabitants of this world lived in the various buildings that lined the streets. At one point, Roy took them up on a high roof, where they found that the city stretched as far as the eye could see; quite a few fandoms, if you get the picture. He pointed in one direction and stated that new housing was being built out there to accommodate new characters. Some recent arrivals had included characters from popular TV shows and movies such as _Heroes_ and _Superbad_.

Finally, Roy took them to a dungeon, which consisted of a large room featuring a large, fiery pit in the middle, from which the three of them could hear screaming.

"This is what is known as Fanfic Writer's Hell," remarked Roy.

"Oh, yeah? And what sins do you have to commit to get put there?" asked Cole.

"Basically, it's intended for those who write badfic," replied Roy.

"Badfic?"

"Bad fanfiction. There's the kind that have atrocious spelling and grammar—"

"Wait a minute!" interrupted Leo. "You can't send people to hell just for…" His sentence drifted off as he thought about some of the horrible misspellings he had seen in the fanfics he had read; he also remembered that some people didn't know to start a new paragraph whenever one character stopped talking and another started talking. "Never mind."

Roy continued. "And then there's the kind that write Mary Sue fics that are not intended to be parodies of the genre. And then, of course, there are the ones who purposefully write bad fanfiction just for the sake of wasting their readers' time."

A particularly loud scream floated up from the pit.

"What exactly do you do to these people?!" demanded Leo.

"Oh, you know, the usual tortures. Forcing them to listen to country music, giving them hallucinations that make them believe that Congress voted to make Bush president for life, that sort of thing."

"That does sound pretty awful. So how long do these punishments usually last?" asked Cole.

"Oh, basically until they learn either how to write a decent fanfic or to quit writing, period."

"Ah."

Leo decided he had had enough touring. "So, any chance that you could bring the others here now?"

Roy nodded and snapped his fingers. "It shall be done."

--

_A/N: Just so you know, the character of Roy is an original creation of mine; I'm saying this so you don't bang your head trying to figure out what fandom he came from.  
_

_The end of the story approaches; I'm guessing it will be done in five chapters, give or take, so just keep chuggin' along (and make sure to leave feedback as you do)._


	18. The Lobby of the Cancelled

_Warning: Crossovers galore ahead!_

--

Phoebe and Piper sat on the couch opposite the one where Vincent, Prue, and Darryl were sitting. A woman with blue hair and pale blue skin stood off to one side; she was dressed in a reddish leather bodysuit that covered her entire body from the neck down. They were listening to Vincent as he told of the odd adventures that he, Prue, and Darryl had been through.

"So after figuring out that we were in one of my _other_ fanfics, we came to the house, and Illyria here—she was wearing a slightly different form at the time—answered the door. Now, I knew that even with my powers as the writer of this fanfic, I wouldn't be able to find you guys, since I can't exactly jump dimensions. However, Illyria at one point had actually possessed such powers on _Angel_, before losing them. So I gave a command to have her powers temporarily restored, and she opened a few portals to other worlds before finally finding you guys."

"If it weren't for your strange ability to control me, I would squash you like the lowly insect you are for taking my powers away again, primitive," said Illyria in her cold voice, way different from the sweet one she had used when she had answered the door as Fred.

"Now, now, Blue, you know you eventually would have just exploded and destroyed the entire city of Dallas. Remember what Wesley said about your shell not being able to contain that kind of power for too long?" replied Vincent, wagging his finger.

Illyria's cold, mostly emotionless face was touched by a hint of sadness. "Speak not of Wesley to me, primitive."

Vincent was about to apologize when he suddenly grew very tired…maybe if just laid back on the couch and closed his eyes for a bit…

--

"Hey, are you alright?" he heard a female voice ask. He opened his eyes and found himself staring into the beautiful face of a rather familiar blonde.

"Kristen Bell?! Ah, dude, am I in heaven?" asked Vincent.

"More like purgatory, _dude_. Oh, and I'm not Kristen Bell; I'm her character Veronica Mars."

Sitting up, Vincent found that he was on a hardwood floor. Looking around, he saw that Darryl and the Charmed Ones had also been unconscious on the floor; they were starting to get up.

"Where are we?" asked Vincent.

"A little bit of a complicated question to answer," replied Veronica. "To put it simply, you're in a hotel. To be more precise, you're in the lobby of a hotel in the World of Fanfiction Ideas."

"The world-a-what?"

"Look, I got somewhere I need to be right now, so why don't you go over to the bar there?" Veronica pointed. "There's some people there who can help you out. I would introduce you myself, but Cy Tolliver from _Deadwood_ is over there right now, and he's always giving me strange looks for some reason. You gonna be alright?"

"Yeah, sure," replied Vincent. "But before you go, let me just say that I am a fan of your show, Veronica. Can I kiss you?" Veronica responded by scoffing and walk away.

_Well, it was worth a shot,_ thought Vincent. Seeing that the others who had come to the hotel with him were now engaged in conversation with other hotel residents, he decided to make his way over to the bar. In addition to Cy Tolliver, Vincent saw that Al Swearingen (from _Deadwood_ as well) was also at the bar. In fact, he was one of the bartenders; the other was Eric Gotts from _Wonderfalls_.

Looking around, Vincent saw several familiar faces among the people sitting at the bar. However, his attention came to focus solely on two men talking with each other, each with a drink in hand. They looked as though they were identical twins. However, one was dressed like he had just stepped out of a Western, while the other was dressed in blue jeans and a button-up shirt. Vincent recognized them immediately.

"When did you say you got here?" asked the one in Western clothing.

"A few months ago. You?" replied his doppelganger.

"Let's see…I guess it's been five years now or so? Although me and my crew did get a brief reprieve when they made the Big Damn Movie. Bummer that it didn't do so well at the box office."

"Wow, I guess our actor just has really shitty luck."

The one in the Western outfit turned and saw Vincent standing there. "Something I can help you with?"

"You're Mal Reynolds from _Firefly_," replied Vincent; it was not a question.

"Ah, I see you've got a fan there," said Mal's clone.

"And you're Alex Tully from _Drive_," said Vincent, turning and looking at the clone.

Alex was surprised. "Glad to see _someone_ watched that show."

"Yeah, and I loved it, too," replied Vincent. "I was so pissed when it got cancelled in less than two weeks."

Alex nodded. "Yeah, well, what can you do?"

"So what show are you from?" asked Mal.

"Um…I'm not, actually. I'm a fanfic writer."

"Really? Can't say I've heard of any of them actually physically coming here before. How did that happen?" asked Alex.

"I have no clue, really. Could either of you explain where I actually am right now?"

Mal set his drink down. "I've got nothing better to do. I'll give you the Big Damn Tour."

--

After Mal finished explaining the whole concept of the World of Fanfiction, Vincent asked him about the hotel.

"Ah yes, the hotel. To put it simply, this hotel is inhabited exclusively by characters from shows that were cancelled before their time. And that doesn't include shows that got to end on their own terms, either, or that were cancelled after having jumped the gorram shark. I mean as in it was canned by a bunch of gorram studio execs, at which point the characters had to move into this building. Basically, it's kind of like a purgatory. The only way to get out is if your series actually gets to be continued and get the proper ending it deserves."

"How often does that happen?"

"Not very. Although the _Angel_ crowd managed to escape at least temporarily thanks to an upcoming comic book series that apparently is going to be canonical. Can't say I'll miss them too much; Angel and Spike kept giving me mean looks. Kept calling me Caleb for some reason, and said something about me being a misogynistic priest. Seriously, can you really imagine me being a Shepherd?"

"You'd be surprised. So why is your group still here then?" asked Vincent. "You guys at least were able to have a movie."

"True, but that don't change the fact that there was still a lot more story that ol' Joss was wanting to tell. Hopefully they'll be coming out with comic books for us soon."

They reached a hallway, and Mall gestured toward the rooms. "Here are some of the rooms where the characters stay."

"Do they try to group the characters in any sort of way?" asked Vincent.

"Yeah, they generally try to make sure that they put characters from the same fandom in adjacent rooms and suites. At one point, they tried to group them by network, but that didn't work out so hot. Many incidents occured; the worst was probably when they tried putting the folks from _Deadwood_ and _Carnivale_ right next to each other, since they're both from HBO."

"What happened?" asked Vincent.

"Basically, Brother Justin from the _Carnivale_ crowd kept preaching really loud sermons that were keeping everybody awake, and pretty soon, even the good guys from the cowboy show were threatening to kill someone if the demonic preacher didn't quit."

Vincent nodded; he was finding this all very interesting. "So what do the characters from the various fandoms do around here to pass the time?"

"Oh, it varies. A lot of them get jobs; for example, that Bluth boy from _Arrested Development_ is selling frozen bananas out near the ocean. And of course, you saw Al and Eric tending the bar."

"What about the folks from your show?"

"Well, Kaylee's putting her skills to use as a mechanic fixing cars and stuff. Simon, of course, is working as a doctor. And Inara...well…"

"I know what Inara does," replied Vincent quickly. "Does she get a lot of, uh, clients?"

"Oh, yeah, including from a lot of people who don't even live in this hotel. Christian Troy visits her frequently. Spike saw her a few times when he was still here; he is quite the gorram charmer, you know. Al Swearingen and Cy Tolliver keep making requests, but she always refuses to see them."

"Any female clients?"

"Yep, especially from _The L Word_. Willow visits her occasionally, too. Hell, I'm not sure, but I think that Mars woman you mentioned may have visited her once." Vincent's eyebrows shot up in surprise at this, while at the same time naughty images started to flood his mind.

They kept walking until eventually they were back in the lobby.

"Well, I guess that ends the tour," said Mal, who started walking back to the bar.

"Hey, Mal!" said Vincent.

Mal turned back and looked at him. "Yes?"

"What exactly does Inara look for in a client? Do you think she and I could, er…"

"You?!" Mal chuckled. "Don't even bother trying."

"Damn!"

--

_A/N: You like that chapter? If so, make sure to show your appreciation through your feedback! If you didn't like it…well, leave feedback anyways._

_As I stated before, this story will more than likely be done in just a few chapters._

_FYI, the whole thing of Cy Tolliver giving Veronica strange looks is a reference to a _Deadwood_ episode guest starring Kristin Bell where Tolliver had Bell's character brutally murdered after she tried to steal things from his saloon and then stabbed him in the leg.  
_


	19. Heading Home, Followed by Evisceration

Roy, Cole, and Leo arrived at the hotel a few minutes later. After gathering Vincent, Darryl, Prue, Piper, and Phoebe together and having a brief, joyous reunion, Roy explained the situation to them: the World of Fanfiction Ideas and his role in it, the hotel of the cancelled shows, and so forth.

Roy explained why the Charmed Ones had failed to send Vincent home and instead had accidentally teleported everyone to different worlds. "The overall network of fanfic universes has been thrown out of balance; this has caused many random events to occur, especially in connection to jumping universes."

"So how did this happen?" asked Vincent. "Who's responsible for this imbalance?"

Roy looked at Vincent and stated plainly, "You are."

Vincent looked surprised. "Me?! What the hell did _I_ do?!"

"It started when your fanfic continued beyond the point up to which you had actually written it. The fact that you were now making up the fanfic as you went resulted in the natural order of the fanfic multiverse being thrown into chaos."

"And you know this how?"

"A good question indeed. I was out one day escorting a particularly bad writer to the Fanfic Writer's Hell, when all of a sudden, he was squashed by a couch that had fallen out of the sky. The poor fellow was alright, but he was scared out of his wits. I felt so sorry for him that I let him go home instead after making him swear never to write badfic again. Later, when I examined the couch, I managed to trace it back to your fanfic."

"I'm sorry," interrupted Phoebe. "Did you say a 'couch'?"

Roy nodded. "Sound familiar?"

"I just remembered that shortly after Vincent here arrived in our window, Prue sent him and my couch flying out the attic window, and we never found the couch again afterward, although Darryl told us that his car was hit by a flying couch later on."

"Wait a minute!" exclaimed Darryl. "That was _your_ couch?!"

"The fact that the couch could fly and then later jumped dimensions was no doubt one of the many consequences of the imbalance in the multiverse. It is very fortunate that we discovered the imbalance this early; otherwise fanfics everywhere would have started experiencing it as well," said Roy.

"Okay, I get it; this is entirely my fault. So tell me how to fix it!" Vincent demanded.

Walking up to Vincent, Roy leaned over and whispered something in his ear. Vincent looked at him.

"Think you can do that?" asked Roy.

Vincent nodded slowly. "Yeah. I can do that."

"Good." Roy turned toward the group. "Then I shall send all of you and your couch home now." He snapped his fingers.

--

The seven of them found themselves once again lying on the ground. Getting up, they looked around and saw that they were in front of Halliwell Manor. The infamous couch was resting in the front yard.

"Are we in the right fanfic this time?" asked Darryl.

Vincent smiled. "There's only one way to find out. Dance the Macarena!" Darryl immediately started doing as he was told. After a minute, Vincent gave the order to cease dancing.

"Well, I guess that proves that we're in the right universe," said Vincent.

"Never, EVER, do that again!" shouted Darryl, who would have been very red in the face if it hadn't been for a certain quality of his physical appearance.

"What did Roy whisper to you, Vincent?" asked Prue.

Vincent gestured with his head in the direction of the house. "I'll explain inside."

As they all started to go inside, Vincent turned and saw something, or rather someone, walking down the street…someone who looked rather familiar.

Phoebe started to go in after everyone else, until she noticed that Vincent was staring at something and not coming in the house. "Vincent? What are you looking at?"

Walking up to him, she turned and looked in the direction in which the writer was staring. What she saw was a young blonde girl (about mid to late teens) walking down the street.

Vincent pointed at the blonde girl. "Tell me…do you know her?"

Squinting her eyes, Phoebe looked at the girl's face then shook her head. "No, I can't say I do."

The writer continued to stare at the girl, trying to figure out where he had seen her before.

Phoebe sighed. "Vincent, she's cute, but don't you think she's also underage?"

"I'm not lusting after her, dumbass! I'm trying to figure out where I've seen her before."

The girl was now passing them. When she noticed that a heavyset man and a very attractive woman were staring at her, she nervously waved at them and said, "Umm…hi there."

The blonde girl's voice triggered Vincent's memory. As soon as he realized who she was, he flew into a rage. "You!"

The girl pointed at herself. "Me?"

To Phoebe's horror, Vincent pointed at the girl and screamed, "EVISCERATE!!"

What followed was not a pretty sight.

--

_So why would my character do such a seemingly terrible act? You may be able to guess, but it's probably best to wait until the next chapter. Speaking of which, either the next chapter or the one after it will be the last in the story, depending on whether I choose to divide it up._

_I'm so sorry it took me so long to update; school has been a royal bitch for me this semester. I'll try to be faster about getting the next chapter out. As always, I appreciate your feedback._


	20. How It All Ended

"WHAT THE HELL, VINCENT!" screamed Phoebe, gesturing wildly at the remains of blonde girl, who had been splattered out all over the street as a consequence of Vincent's command.

"I had to do it, Phoebe!" said Vincent.

"Why? Was she a demon? Or a warlock?"

"Er…no, actually, she was a witch."

"An evil witch?"

"Well, uh, not really."

"Jesus, Vincent, she was just a kid! Would letting her live have led to a major apocalypse or something?"

"Umm...no, I guess technically not."

"Then undo it! Put her back together!"

Vincent responded by giving a Phoebe a glaring look. When she did not back down, he sighed.

"Fine." He pointed at the body. "Undo."

The girl's head, limbs, and insides joined back with the rest of her body, which then healed completely.

"Just so you know," Vincent pouted, "Letting her die would resulted in having a less shitty eighth season and less pissed-off fans."

As he and Phoebe went inside, the girl that the Charmed Ones would eventually come to know as Billie Jenkins woke up. Confused and frightened, she quickly stood, looked around, and decided to go home.

--

"So what did Roy say to you, Vincent?" asked Prue once Vincent and Phoebe had sat down at the table with everyone else.

"He whispered only three words in my ear: 'Finish the story.'"

"What did he mean by that?" asked Darryl.

"He meant that I should finish writing this fanfic that we are currently living," replied Vincent. He turned to Phoebe. "Phoebe, I am going to need to borrow your computer for the next several days." Phoebe nodded. Turning to the rest of the group, Vincent said, "I need all of you to come in at some point or another while I'm writing. Since I could not be with all of you during our trip to other worlds, I will need to talk to each and every one of you separately so I can get you to fill in the details for me as I write."

He did exactly as he said he would. He spent the next several days on the computer, adding chapters to the fanfic as he went and calling the others in to interview them about the details that he had missed; this often required much persistence on his part, due to what they did not want to reveal. Feedback started pouring in from the fanfic readers. One reviewer who seemed to be a fan of Piper and Leo had some decent ideas for the story's direction. Another reviewer whose username implied that they were a maternal figure for reptiles left feedback that tended to be brief (though not as brief as the sometimes one-word reviews of a one reader named "lemonwedges4"), but they were faithful about leaving it when new chapters were released. A reader who went by the username "wiccanforever" held the distinction of being the 100th reviewer. Another whose alias was "The Voice" had been a fan of Vincent's previous work for quite a while. Other frequent reviewers included "CharmedOneForever", "allenterrill", "PaigetheSuperWhiteLighter", "Christine Ruud", "mandymoore1", and "Charmed225". There was even one reviewer who said that she had been reading the fanfic with her daughter.

(A/N: As tribute to my faithful readers, I tried to mention everyone who either left feedback for five or more chapters or who wrote reviews that particularly stood out to me. If I miscounted the number of reviews you left and you weren't mentioned in any fashion, let me know and I'll fix it. Please note that if I did mention you, I only meant to flatter and not offend.)

--

Finally, Vincent finished the fanfic and called everyone back together in the attic.

"I've finished the story," the writer announced to the group. They looked around at each other and then back at him.

"Does this mean we're acting it out now?" asked Darryl.

Vincent nodded. "Yes, but don't worry; the story will end shortly."

"So how do you go home?" asked Prue. "Do we need to perform another spell?"

"No, I simply wrote in my ending that I get transported home. Due to the fanfic multiverse being set back in order, that should be enough."

They looked at each other again.

"So, is there something you wanted to tell us?" asked Cole. "Because I'm still on the run from demon assassins, and it's dangerous for me to be here right now."

"As a matter of fact, there is something I need to tell you. I've written the ending such that as soon as I go home, your memories of this whole mess—the fanfics, me and the fanfic writers, the World of Fanfiction Ideas, etcetera—will be erased." The revelation resulted in a collective "WHAT!" filling the room.

"Yes, I know having your memory erased sucks, but trust me, it's all for the good. I'm generally a believer in maintaining canonity, you know. Oh, and since you won't remember it anyways, I thought I'd go ahead and spill everyone's secrets."

The six pairs of eyes staring at him reflected a mixture of fear and puzzlement.

"Phoebe and Piper, your sister is going to die very soon, and this time, you won't be able to bring her back. Prue, the actress who plays you is considered by many to be rather bitchy, and many suspect that to be the reason you were killed off. Cole, your woman cheated on you with a plastic surgeon played by the same actor who plays you. Oh yeah, and I'm not sure since my memory's rather fuzzy and we were all rather drunk, but Phoebe may have also gotten it on with Prue the night that everything went wrong at P3."

The room collapsed into chaos as everyone started get upset with each other, shocked either at what had just been revealed or at the fact that the writer had betrayed them by revealing it, period. Cole started screaming at a crying Phoebe, while Piper, who was very upset at the news of her sister's upcoming death, started hugging Prue in protective fashion to the point that Prue (who was trying to come to Phoebe's defense) started to suffocate. Darryl and Leo were both trying to calm everyone down.

Leo turned to the writer and gave him a "what the hell" look. Vincent shrugged and grinned. "Sorry. I couldn't resist."

Suddenly, the writer vanished as he was sent home, just as the ending of his story had foretold. At the same time, everyone's memories of all that had taken place over the past couple weeks or so were erased. They stared at each other, dumbfounded, wondering what had just happened.

--

The writer known to his characters as Vincent and to his readers as filmFreak1 found himself back in his dorm room sitting on his bed. The television was on, and he saw that the same episode of _Desperate Housewives_ that had been airing when he found himself in his fanfic was still airing, and he realized that no time had passed in his own world. He looked around, and sighed. Then he got out of bed and sat down at his desk. Turning on his laptop, he began writing another fanfic.

--

_A/N: Well, after twenty chapters and several months of delays due to work and school, it's finished. I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I hope one day to do a sequel, perhaps with the Charmed Ones finding themselves in the real world. I hope you will be kind enough to leave more feedback, to comment both on the chapter itself and the fic as a whole. Thank you so much for being such faithful readers!_

_On a side note, I mentioned back in the first chapter (when it was intended to be a one-shot) that I had been inspired by a Firefly fic with a similar premise. That fic was titled "The Power of the Pen" and was written by sphinx81._


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